Wildflowers IV: Dark Days
by XenaLives
Summary: A murder at the Rosewood sends shock waves through the town and when Paige is imprisoned, unjustly, for the crime Emily, their friends and Marshal Fields must work to find the real killer before the real killer decides to tie up loose ends. Trust is questioned, love and lives are on the line and secrets are revealed in the latest installment of this series.
1. Chapter 1

**And we're off! This is, by far, my most ambitious story in this series but, I fear, it goes a little sideways at times. Perhaps, I tried to do too much. We're going with it anyway and it's long enough that it should take us through to the start of season 5.**

**For those of you hoping for some more sexy and sweet Paily times I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. I think, though, that the next one will be a bit gentler on our girls. **

* * *

As the winter grew dark and cold, Emily's heart brightened and warmed. Paige was coming back to her. She smiled and laughed again effortlessly, reaching to touch Emily spontaneously and with mischief in her eyes. Their lovemaking was gentle and passionate and their conversations real and looking toward the future.

Paige's nightmares had lessened and, when they did come, she was able to let Emily hold her while she cried or talked it through. She only spent her days in town, speaking with Pastor Edward and coming to terms with what she had done and the person she had become because of it.

Physically she was improving, as well. Though still needing the support of the cane she was able to do more and more, around the ranch. The winter days had settled into a comfortable routine filled with clearing snow, chopping wood, making much needed repairs, tending the horses and seeing the herd stayed fed and healthy through the long winter.

The weather over the last few weeks had been gray, blustery and bitterly cold keeping them indoors unless absolutely necessary. Emily awoke this morning to a clear sky and sunshine streaming in the window. She smiled as it lit across Paige's pale skin where her shoulder was bare, the blanket having slipped down her chest.

Emily watched her sleep for a few minutes, relaxed and healthy. She had put some weight back on and her increased mobility had her working hard, her muscles firming and lengthening. Emily traced her fingers along her arm, across her shoulder and up her neck. Paige stirred at her touch but didn't wake.

Emily slipped her hand under the covers and trailed her fingers down across Paige's taut stomach, circling her navel and teasing along her sides. Paige sighed but slept on and Emily continued to trace patterns down her legs and up the insides of her thighs.

"Mmmm…." Paige murmured sleepily, eyes still closed. "...feels nice…." She raised her arms above her head and stretched lazily.

Emily loved the feel of Paige's body tightening and relaxing under her and switched from her fingertips to running the flat of her hand across Paige's skin, paying extra attention when her hands brushed the scars on her leg, ribs, shoulder and chest. Paige had, at first, been self conscious, but Emily had insisted her scars only enhanced her beauty, symbols of her strength and love, and proved it often until Paige believed her.

Emily continued to stroke slowly along her lover's body and was rewarded with a small gasp and deepening of her breaths in arousal. Emily, in the quiet stillness of the morning, could feel Paige's heart rate increase under her hand.

Paige smiled languidly. "Are you just going to tease me all morning?" She asked, cracking an eye.

"Would you like that?" Emily asked seductively.

"Mmmm...maybe." Paige replied and moved to run a hand through Emily's sexy, sleep tousled hair, tracing her fingers across her cheek, behind her ear and down her neck before pulling her close, searching out her lips with her own.

Emily groaned softly as Paige's mouth worked deliciously against hers, parting her lips with her tongue, exploring and tasting her, as she moved, stretching her naked body across Paige, their breasts, bellies and hips pressing into each other.

Paige ran her fingers across the smooth warm skin of Emily's back and sides, tickling her down to the small of her back, before gripping her hips, bringing her thigh up to press between Emily's legs.

Emily groaned into Paige's mouth at the pressure against her and swirled her hips against Paige's thigh, slicking her skin with her desire, heightening her arousal. They moved against each other easily, their knowledge of one another profound but never complete as they each constantly worked to surprise each other in bed.

Paige slipped her fingers between her leg and Emily's center, feeling the wet warmth of her, adding a gentle rocking pressure to her hand with her leg as her fingers curled in and out of Emily.

Emily groaned, biting her lip, at the pulsing sensation and moved with Paige as delicious heat built within her. She wanted them to come together and moved her hand down along Paige's leg, teasing her with her touch, feeling the heat of Paige's desire.

Paige tilted her hips at the feel of Emily's hand dancing across her skin, inviting her to enter, which she did with a smooth thrust. Paige gasped as Emily filled her and rocked her hips into Emily's hand in concert with the swirl of Emily's center against her own hand and leg.

Their bodies rippled and rolled against each other in perfect, endless rhythm, eyes locked on each other and breaths coming hard and fast in time as they surged toward release together.

Paige bucked against Emily's hand, her walls tightening around her fingers as waves of heat washed through her. Emily's eyes slid closed with a groan of ecstasy and her head dropped back as she rode Paige's leg hard and fast, her climax near. Paige arched and Emily dropped her head onto Paige's chest as they cried out their release in harmony, gasping and laughing as sensations crescendoed and peaked through them both.

Paige eased herself out of Emily and lowered her leg, allowing Emily's hot, sweaty body to drape across her. Emily's hair fanned out across her chest and tickled her breasts, as Emily's hands rested against Paige's hips as they breathed deeply through the aftershocks.

"That's one of my favorite ways to wake up in the morning." Paige murmured as she trailed her fingers along Emily's back.

Emily lifted her head and looked at her. "One of your favorites?" She asked feigning hurt. "What's the other?"

Paige smiled teasingly at her. "Breakfast in bed."

"Oh, really?' Emily asked. "And what, dare I ask, have you done to deserve breakfast in bed?"

'Well, let's see." Paige considered this fighting a smile. "I let you have your wanton way with me."

"Oh, indeed?" Emily laughed. "It must be such a hardship for you."

"You have no idea." Paige agreed. "The things I do for love." She added with a laugh.

Emily grinned into her and kissed along her ribs. "Well, if you really love me then, you'll wait a while longer for breakfast." She moved her hands across Paige's belly feeling her muscles jump and twitch in anticipation.

"Em…" Paige breathed, still reeling from her release only moments before. "...I'm not sure I can…"

"You'd deny my wanton ways?" Emily said between nips and kisses across Paige's breasts and down her belly as she coaxed Paige's arousal again.

Paige groaned as Emily kissed her way down her hips, her body coming alive again under Emily's caress. "Well…" Paige gasped and opened her legs to her as Emily's lips brushed the inside of her thighs. "...if you must…"

Paige reached up and grabbed the rails of the headboard as Emily kissed and sucked her with enthusiastic abandon until Paige's eyes rolled back in her head, body trembling, and her mouth dropped open in a silent scream as she climaxed again, Emily drawing out her orgasm expertly.

Paige came back down to earth with a languid sigh. "Good lord, Woman…" She breathed with a smile. "...what do you have planned for the rest of the day?" She asked contentedly.

Emily flopped onto her back next to Paige. "Actually, I was hoping you'd be up for going into town for supper at the Rosewood tonight." She felt Paige tense slightly next to her. She hadn't been to the Rosewood since the night Emily confronted her. Emily suspected Paige was nervous about going back. She was holding on to some shame about her behaviour and her breakdown. "Except for Toby our friends haven't seen you in weeks, Paige. I know they miss you. And Aria is performing tonight so everyone will be there."

"So, was all this you just trying to butter me up?" Paige asked wryly.

Emily turned her head into Paige's neck. "Did it work?" She mumbled and kissed behind her ear.

"I don't know, Em…" Paige answered seriously. "...I was a real jerk the last time I was out-"

"Paige." Emily interrupted and raised her head to look at her. "No one blames you for losing-"

"My mind?" Paige finished for her.

Emily smiled and shook her head. "I was going to say 'your way' after everything you went through." She dropped her head back and kissed along Paige's neck and the top of her breasts. "No one who matters will care about any of that. Everyone will just be happy to see you."

Paige sighed but didn't respond. She knew Emily was right and, in truth, she wanted to go. They had been cooped up at the ranch for a long time and, while there were advantages to endless alone time with Emily, getting out and seeing their friends would be fun.

Emily nipped at her ear playfully. "Do you need more buttering?" She asked in a low voice.

"Maybe..." Paige pulled Emily down and captured her lips with her own. "...a little more buttering wouldn't hurt…"

* * *

The weather stayed clear but cold as they rode into town that evening. Emily tried to get Maggie a ride in everyday as Holden assured her staying active and fit was the best thing for her pregnancy.

They rode to the small stables at the back of the Rosewood to shelter Hank and Maggie out of the cold while they were there. They left them saddled but removed their bridles and hung them on the door of the stall they would share. Paige slid her cane out of the holster usually reserved for her rifle and latched the stall door.

Emily was waiting for her at the stable door and held out her hand. "Ready?" She asked with a smile.

Paige returned her smile and took her hand lacing their fingers together and planting her cane in the snow carefully as they walked back around toward the front. As usual on a performance night the room was filled and energized. It was early yet but the weather kept the families at home, as such the ladies from the second floor were down mingling with the available patrons.

Hanna, Spencer, Caleb and Toby were at a table near the bar so Caleb could keep his eye on Holden, tending bar tonight. They waved when they saw Emily and Paige come in. Hanna leapt up, closing the distance between them, wrapping Paige up in a hug so fierce Paige staggered, unsteadily, under the force of it.

"Sorry." Hanna laughed and helped Paige regain her balance. "Are you alright?" She asked.

Paige grinned at her. "It's good to see you, too, Hanna." Paige answered.

Paige locked eyes with Spencer, who looked her up and down with a careful eye, before nodding in greeting. Paige moved toward her. "Hastings." Paige nodded, fighting a smile.

"McCullers." Spencer answered, her mouth quirking. "I'm pleased to see you looking so well."

Paige sighed and relaxed at the normalcy of it all. "You and me both."

"Ladies." Caleb gestured to the table. "Sit. Sit. Let us enjoy good friends, good drink…" He uncorked a bottle of Madeira and filled glasses. "...and food that, well, leaves a little to be desired." He laughed.

The six of them ate, drank and relaxed throughout the night, catching up with each other and visiting with friends that came by the table. One such person flitted by and Hanna jumped up.

"Cece!" She called over the din. She turned back to the table. "I want to introduce you all to this woman."

The woman turned, eyes scanning the crowd, and beamed at Hanna when she spied her. She was beautiful with wavy blonde hair, perfect skin and flashing eyes. She swung through the crowd with ease until she was close enough to grip Hanna's hands in hers and kiss the air on either side of her cheek in greeting.

"Hanna." She purred. "I'm so happy you're here." She smoothed her hands down the skirts of the beautiful burgundy and black dress. "What do you think?" She asked.

"You look fabulous!" Hanna beamed. "Just like I said you would." Hanna turned and swept her hand out to her friends. "This is Cece Drake. She came into the shop the other day and I just knew this dress I made was for her as soon as I laid eyes on her. Cece, these are my friends Emily, Spencer, Paige, Caleb and Toby."

"It's a pleasure to meet you all." Cece said eyeing them all, in turn. "Hanna has been so kind to me, I expect we'll all be fast friends."

"Have you been in town long?" Caleb asked and poured her a glass of wine.

"Thank you, Darling." She said with a wink to him and sipped with approval. "No, not long. I arrived on the train a couple of days ago." She answered. "I'll be staying at the hotel for a bit."

"What brings you to Cheyenne?" Emily inquired of her.

"Ohhhh…" Cece waved her hand in the air. "...just visiting an old friend." She turned toward the stage as Aria appeared, looking as elegant as ever. "She's something, isn't she?" Cece asked to no one in particular.

"Oh?" Emily asked, interested. "Who? I'm sure we know-"

She was cut off when the piano struck up and Aria began her first number.

"I really must be mingling some with some folks I met earlier today." Cece said airily. "Thank you for the drink." She flitted off across the room into the crowd.

The friends reclaimed their seats and enjoyed another of Aria's performances. Just as the final lilting notes of Aria's last number drifted away Paige jumped as a large hand came down hard on her shoulder.

"McCullers!" A deep voice boomed. "Where have you been keeping yourself?"

They all turned and Paige looked up into the grinning, alcohol reddened face of Ezra Fitzgerald. Paige hedged. "We've been busy out at the ranch." She offered lamely.

"I expect the chance to win some of my money back tonight." He eyed her slyly. He rarely won but he loved the game and had money to burn. "Thomas is in tonight, Hastings, too, and a couple other hands that may make things interesting. I think Hackett is even going to play. What do you say?"

"Oh, I don't think so, Fitz." Paige's eyes flicked to Emily. "I'm just here to enjoy the show and see my friends."

Fitzgerald narrowed his eyes at her. "Show's over." He stated. "And we're your friends, too, aren't we?" He wasn't taking no for an answer.

Emily reached across to her and placed her hand on Paige's arm. "Go." She said with a smile. "Make him regret asking you to play." She winked.

Paige's eyes widened in surprise. "Are you sure?" She asked.

Emily smiled at her. "I'm going to head home shortly." She quirked her mouth. "I'll be the one waiting for you in bed."

Paige smiled and considered, briefly, going home with Emily. She was itching to get back to the table though. "It won't take me long to clean these boys out." Her eyes flicked to Spencer thinking she may care her father was playing. "Sorry."

Spencer shrugged. "Take his money."

"Ha!" Fitzgerald, still hovering, barked a laugh. "Better put your money where your mouth is, McCullers!"

Ian Thomas came up and joined him looking equally as into his cups. "What the hell is the hold up?" He growled. "Is she coming or not?" He looked at Paige.

Paige rose slowly, leaning in to grip Emily's neck and kiss her deeply, before straightening. She smirked at the slack jawed look on the men's faces. "Keep your britches on, boys." She grabbed her cane off the back of the chair. "I don't know why you're both in such a rush to lose."

"You wish, McCullers." Ian Thomas gestured to the bar. "Just for that you can buy the next round." He laughed, an obnoxious braying sound.

Paige turned back to Emily with a wink. "I'll see you later."

Emily smiled. "Have fun."

Spencer cocked an eyebrow at Emily as Paige headed to the bar with the men. "Are you really okay with this?"

Emily frowned at her. "Why wouldn't I be?" She asked.

"You don't think it's too soon?" Spencer asked.

"Too soon for what?" Emily challenged. "For Paige to get back to doing the things that make her happy?"

"I'm just asking." Spencer held up her hands in a gesture of calm.

"Sorry." Emily chewed her lip considering Spencer's point. She trusted Paige and wanted to believe, more than anything, she was strong enough, now, not to let any lingering darkness get a hold on her again. "I understand what you're saying. It will be alright."


	2. Chapter 2

Paige settled into her usual chair at the table and nursed the beer Peter Hastings slid in front of her. She wouldn't stay out late. She valued the trust Emily showed in her and didn't want to give her reason to worry about her again.

True to her word it didn't take long for her to have the men back on their heels. She was about to deal the next hand when soft fingers trailed across her neck from behind.

"Where have you been, Gorgeous?" Alison's voice purred in her ear.

Paige whirled and shrugged off Alison's hand, glancing across the room to Emily's table. She had left.

"Emily left a while ago." She whispered. "It's just you and me, now."

"Alison, I'm busy." Paige said shortly and shuffled the cards.

"Is that right?" Alison moved around to her side, leaning into her with a hip. She offered a sultry smile to the men at the table who were watching their exchange with interest. "I thought I was your good luck charm?" Alison pouted.

Paige was getting uncomfortable with the attention from Alison and the expectant looks from her table mates. "You, know, Gentlemen." She said and drained her beer, pushing the cards to the middle of the table. "It's getting late and I should be getting on back."

"What?" Fitz exclaimed.

"Are you serious?" Dr. Hastings slammed down his drink in disgust.

"Come on, McCullers!" Carter Hackett whined.

They protested in unison. Paige swept up her winnings and laid a few bills on the table. "Drinks are on me." She said.

Ian Thomas swept the money off the table and stood. "I'll be back."

This seemed to placate them as she shrugged into her coat and grabbed her cane off the back of her chair. She thumped her way to the door faster than was comfortable for her. It was a straight shot as the show was long over and the crowd had thinned considerably.

Alison caught up with her right inside the door. "Where the hell do you think you're going?" She challenged.

"Home." Paige answered but Alison moved to stand between her and the door.

"Not without some explanation." Alison demanded.

Paige sighed. "Explanation for what?"

Alison sneered at her. "How you can prefer that little vanilla housemouse to someone with my experience and charm." She winked at her seductively.

"What?" Paige was shocked. They had flirted, sure, but Alison had never come onto her so blatantly before. Paige looked around the room to stall for time and saw all eyes on them. The men were leering at them, all but licking their lips in anticipation. She swept her gaze across the balcony and saw familiar faces of the women staring down at them, curiously.

"I mean." Alison continued. "Emily is not without her...ahem...attributes...and, believe me, I know, but surely, you must be bored by now."

Paige was so shocked at the direction the conversation had taken it didn't occur to her to wonder what Alison meant. "I don't know what game you're playing, Alison, but I'm not even remotely interested." She moved to go around her.

Alison grabbed her arm. "You don't know what you're missing." She said throatily for only Paige to hear.

Paige frowned at her and shook off her hand. "I'm leaving." She crashed through the doors and out into the night.

Paige made it around the side of the building and stopped, leaning her back against the wall,closing her eyes, and worked to control her breathing. She didn't know what that was about and worried that she had just caused problems for them. Alison DiLaurentis was not someone she wanted for an enemy. She hoped that was the end of it and it would just blow over. She couldn't imagine Alison really cared that much about her or would lend any weight to being brushed off.

Paige opened her eyes, her vision blurring slightly. She shook her head and pushed herself off the wall. She must be more tired than she thought. She hadn't gone a few more steps when she swayed with dizziness, her cane almost going out from under her. She put a hand to the wall to steady herself and shook her head to clear it. She hadn't had that much to drink and wondered if she was coming down with something. She squinted and tried to focus on the single lantern light hanging in the window of the stable.

The ground seemed to shift under her as she staggered the rest of the way into the stable. She tried to work the latch on Hank's door but her fingers didn't seem to want to obey her brain. After three attempts she got Hank's stall door open and fumbled for his bridle.

He whickered and shook his head at her as she groped along his muzzle, driving the bit into his mouth too roughly. "...sorry, Boy…" She tried to soothe him. "...be patient with me." She was starting to get worried as her vision swam sickeningly as she tried uselessly to buckle his bridle.

Paige heard the rustle of movement behind her but was too slow to react as rough hands on her shoulders spun her and slammed her against the wall, kicking her cane out from under her. She staggered, the ground tilting dangerously and tried to focus on her assailant.

"Hey…" She slurred and swung wildly at the form. The person didn't even appear to have to dodge as her fist slammed into the wall, shooting pain up her arm and splitting the skin over her knuckles.

She thought she heard laughter, harsh and grating, as she was thrown to the ground. A shapeless dark form billowed around her. She was too sick and dizzy to defend herself as they rolled her onto her back. She felt long fingernails dig sharply against the skin of neck and a brief, painful tug at her throat. Her eyes rolled as she tried to focus. She felt a splash of liquid across her face and chest and the smell of whiskey turned her stomach. Nothing else registered but hot breath against her face and streaks of light across her field of vision, blurring the dark face in front of her, before everything went black.

* * *

Paige struggled to open her eyes. Her head pounded and stomach roiled and she was so cold. She stirred with a groan and felt soft, velvety lips nipping at her hair and face. "...Hank…" She croaked and pushed weakly at his muzzle.

Paige rolled over, taking deep gulping breaths to keep from vomiting and blinked furiously to clear her vision. She was lying in Hank's stall and for the life of her couldn't remember what she was doing in the barn. She tried to push herself up and grunted in pain as she put pressure on her right hand. She blinked and looked at her hand, the knuckles swollen and bleeding. Had she been in a fight?

She made it to sitting and looked around. She wasn't in the barn at the ranch. She was in the stable behind the Rosewood. What was she doing here? How long had she been here? She struggled to her feet. Her knee ached from cold and overuse. She was so confused. She had to get home to Emily.

Paige kicked around the straw looking for her cane to no avail. She didn't care, she could find it later or get a new one. She was too sick to worry about it now. On the third attempt she managed to drag herself into the saddle. She leaned down and patted Hank's neck. "Let's go home, Boy." She mumbled and let Hank pick his way out of the stable and down the street.

* * *

Emily was pacing through the front room. It was nearly dawn and Paige hadn't come home. She didn't know whether to be frantic with worry or furious in anger. Maybe Spencer had been right and it was too soon and Emily had all but pushed her into temptation. She ran her hand through her hair sighing in frustration.

She looked out the window again and saw a light come on the in the barn. Toby was up already, it seemed. She looked down the track to the house and squinted into the darkness. She could just make out movement, she thought. Emily grabbed her coat off the wall and banged out the front door.

Hank walked into the yard with Paige slumped over his neck in the saddle. Toby came out and grabbed Hank's reins. He placed a hand on Paige to steady her and walked Hank to the front of the house. Toby looked at Emily with concern. "I'm sorry, Emily." He offered. "What can I do?"

Emily shook her head, disgusted and worried. "Just help me get her into the house." She said through gritted teeth.

Toby dragged Paige out of the saddle and slung her arm across his shoulders. Her head lolled to the side as he hoisted her up the porch stairs. Emily held the door open for him as he half carried her, half dragged her to the sofa, propping her up.

"Thank you, Toby." Emily said tightly. "I'll take it from here."

Toby nodded and left quietly.

Emily couldn't even look at her. She reeked of whiskey and couldn't even hold her head up. "Paige…" She whispered and could feel the hot sting of tears behind her eyes. She couldn't go through this again.

"Em…". Paige mumbled and tried to push herself up. She was home. Emily would help her. "...Emily...I need…you..."

"Don't even start with that, Paige." Emily snapped. "I'm not doing this again." She turned to look at her finally. Emily frowned, worriedly, as she took in the spots of blood on her shirt. She looked her over and saw her right hand held tightly to her chest. Emily knelt and pulled her hand away from her body to look at. "Oh, God, have you been fighting?" She breathed.

"No...Emily." Paige struggled to sit up and clear her head. She needed to make Emily understand. "I don't know...what happened…." She shook her head again desperate for some memory to help her explain. "...I woke up...in the stable…" She tried.

Emily shook her head in disbelief. "You passed out in the stable? Jesus, Paige." She massaged a hand across her forehead. She couldn't believe they were back here. They had worked so hard and come so far. Paige was doing great. Emily couldn't help but think this was some failure on her part. She was at a loss.

Emily rose when she heard the jangle of a horse's bridle and the creak of a wagon rolling into the yard. She looked out the front window as the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon to see her father ride in, his deputy Sean Ackard behind in the wagon. Emily frowned at their arrival. What now?

It was too cold to go back outside so she waited for them to get to the porch before opening the door. "Dad?" She said. "What are you doing here?"

"This isn't a social call, Emily." He said and looked around the room behind her.

Emily startled at his use of her given name. He rarely called her Emily. Only when he was very angry or worried. This morning he looked both. "What's going on?" She asked.

"I need to talk to Paige." He answered. "Is she here?"

"Oh, God." Emily ran her hands over her face. "What did she do?"

Her father stepped into the front room his deputy coming in far enough to close the door behind him. "Emily, is she here?" He demanded sharply.

Paige heard the voices at the door and pushed herself off the couch, limping toward the door. "Right….here…" She offered.

Marshal Fields eyed her hard and held out his hand. "Is this yours?" He demanded, uncurling his fingers to reveal the black jade raven pendant she always wore around her neck.

Paige frowned at it a moment before lifting a hand to her neck. It was bare but for the stinging of scratches at her throat. "Yes…" She breathed and reached to take it from him.

Marshal Fields moved his hand away and pocketed the pendant. He reached out to her and pulled the collar of her shirt down to get a better look at the four long scratches running across her neck and chest. "How did you get those?" He asked.

Paige shook her head, unable to meet his eyes. "I don't know…" She swallowed thickly.

Emily watched her father, fear coiling in her stomach, as his jaw clenched and unclenched with tension. "Dad, what's going on?" She asked shakily. "Where did you find Paige's necklace?"

Marshal Fields tore his eyes away from the woman in front of him to look at his daughter. She was scared and so was he. He swallowed and looked back at his daughter's lover. "It was found clutched in the hand of Alison DiLaurentis' dead body." He ground out.

Emily staggered back, a hand going to her chest and looked at Paige, who, for her part, seemed not to comprehend what her father had just said.

"Where is your cane, Paige?" Marshal Fields asked her.

Paige blinked at him in shock.

"Forget it." He snarled. "I know where it is." He motioned to his Deputy who stepped forward, pulling chains from his belt.

"Dad!" Emily gasped as Sean Ackard gripped Paige's wrists one at a time and locked the iron shackles around her. He unbuckled her gun belt and handed it to Emily who took it with shaky hands.

"Paige McCullers." Marshal Fields began tightly. "You are under arrest for the murder of Alison DiLaurentis."


	3. Chapter 3

As the cold iron circled her wrists locking down Paige snapped back to awareness. "This is...a mistake." She looked between Marshal Fields and Emily. "There's been some kind of mistake." She repeated, desperately, trying to meet Emily's eyes. "Emily?" She pleaded.

Emily covered her mouth with a trembling hand and looked at Paige. She didn't know what to think or what to believe. She felt like all the air had been sucked from the room as doubt filled her mind.

Paige could see it, too. Emily thought she could do this and her heart, in that moment, tore open. "Emily…" Paige reached for her and Emily stepped away slightly and could no longer meet her eyes.

"Deputy." Marshal Fields interrupted. "Take her to the wagon."

Deputy Sean Ackard was overly excited about his first murder arrest. He shoved Paige toward the door. She took a step and grunted as, without her cane, her knee gave out and she went down on one knee, her shackled hands banging against the wooden floor.

"Paige!" Emily called and moved to her side.

Emily's father gripped Emily's arm and stopped her from reaching Paige. "Emily, stay back." He ordered. He turned to his deputy. "Sean, help her to the wagon."

Deputy Ackard helped Paige to her feet and, one hand gripping her upper arm for support, led her out the door.

"I'm coming, too." Emily said firmly to her father.

"No, Emily, you're not." He answered. "This is serious. A woman is dead and the evidence points to Paige." He finished. "I need to be careful with this Emily and so do you."

"You don't think Paige could do this, do you?" Emily asked him.

"Don't you?" Her father challenged reading the doubt in her eyes.

Emily sucked in a quiet breath. Did she? "No!" She said, finally. "No, Paige is right. There's been some kind mistake."

Her father sighed. "Listen carefully, Emily. People are going to be watching very closely how I handle this. If certain people get any whiff of impropriety or misconduct on my part, if they even suspect I've shown Paige some kind of favoritism because of who she is to you I could be removed from my position."

"What are you saying?" Emily asked.

"I'm saying it's going to be hard on you." He glanced toward the door. "On both of you. If Paige is innocent of this we'll find out. In the meantime she's our number one suspect and I'll have to treat her as such."

Emily swallowed and nodded in understanding. She trusted her father. "Can I see her?"

He shook his head. "Not for a while. We need to question her and collect evidence."

"When?" Emily asked shakily.

"Maybe this afternoon." Her father answered, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry, Baby." He whispered before turning and heading out after his deputy.

Toby and Holden were in the yard when he came out. He strode to Toby who stood, rigid, arms crossed with a look of confusion and anger. "Emily can tell you what she knows." Marshal Fields said. "I'll need to see you all in my office later today."

Toby nodded, still not understanding and looking to Emily as she came out to the front porch. She glanced to them before looking heartbreakingly at Paige, in the back of the wagon in chains, as Deputy Ackard rattled out of the yard toward town.

"She's going to need you, Toby." Marshal Fields said softly. "I can't be there for her right now."

Toby nodded again. "I'll look after her."

"Thank you." He breathed before swinging up on his horse.

* * *

Paige hung her head, exhausted, sick and confused as they rolled up outside the Marshals office. She could feel the eyes of the townspeople on her. Judging her, condemning her for a crime she couldn't explain but knew she wasn't guilty of.

The Deputy handed her down from the back of the wagon and steadied her before leading her to the Marshal's office. She was grateful to get out of the cold and away from the glares of strangers.

The Marshal came in behind them. "I'll take if from here, Sean." He said as he shrugged out of his coat. "Make your rounds and send me Doc Hastings. I need him to document her injuries. And keep folks from gathering and gawking outside, will you?"

Sean looked disappointed he didn't get to be part of the interrogation. "Yes, Sir." He agreed and left.

Paige stood, swaying in the middle of the room unsure what to do before Marshal Fields guided her to the chair next to his desk. "Sit down before you fall down." He said and moved to the side table. He poured a cup of coffee and set it in front of her.

"Thank you." She reached for it, the chains clattering on his desk. It was strong and bitter but hot. It helped.

The Marshal grunted. "I need you alert." He answered letting her know in no uncertain terms he wasn't being kind. "Let's get started. Tell me about last night." He said

Paige looked at him. "I don't know...I can't...remember…." She said uselessly.

"Not good enough, Paige." The Marshal shot back. "You're in very serious trouble. You understand that, right? There are folks outside who want to see you hang for what you did. If there was some reason, if you were defending yourself or someone else we can work to mitigate your sentence-"

"I didn't do this!" Paige slammed her hands down on the desk, bruising her wrists as the iron dug into her skin. "Take these damn things off of me." She shouted in frustration.

"I can't do that" The Marshal replied. "I want nothing more than to be wrong about this Paige. Do you think I want to learn my daughter has been living with someone capable of murder? Tell me what happened." He repeated.

Paige shook her head and leaned back in her chair. "I don't know!" She shouted.

Marshal Fields studied her and nodded slowly. "Well, let's start with what I know, then. Alison DiLaurentis was found dead in her room early this morning by one of her girls. She was beaten practically unrecognizable. Your pendant was found in her hand. Your cane was found covered in blood near the body."

Paige stared at him open mouthed and speechless. Someone was setting her up. "It wasn't me." She insisted. "Marshal, you know me. Even if you believed I was capable of this do you really think I'd be so stupid as to beat someone to death and leave the murder weapon and other evidence that leads you directly to my door?"

He didn't respond to that. "If you have nothing to tell me at this time we'll continue the investigation without you."

"I need to see Emily." She asked. "Please."

He glared at her. "Not on your life." He growled and rose, hauling her out of her chair. His anger and fear for Emily taking control of him as he dragged her, limping down the hallway toward the newly constructed cells. Two of the four new cells were complete and two were still under construction.

He pushed her into a completed one and slammed the iron bars behind her. His face twisted in rage as he looked at the woman who had been sharing his daughter's bed for months. He had welcomed her, trusted her and now all he could see was Emily, beaten and lifeless at her feet. He knew he should unlock the manacles but he was afraid what he might do if he got that close to her. He needed some time to regain his balance.

Paige saw the hurt and fury all over his face and knew it was for Emily. She couldn't blame him. She would feel the same. He was going to leave her here in chains but she didn't protest. She needed time to think, too.

Paige dropped onto the bunk and raised her hands to her face, scrubbing at her eyes and running a manacled hand awkwardly through her hair. Why couldn't she remember? Her head pounded in time with her heart beat and her mouth was dry as bone. She rose and investigated her cell.

There was a tin ewer of water on the a small shelf bolted to the wall. Next to it a tin cup. She poured herself a cup of water and sucked it down. It tasted like sawdust and ash. There was a low stone wall, about three feet high, on the other side of which was a commode draining into the floor.

The bunk was a narrow wood plank, attached to the wall with thick iron chains. On it a thin mattress with a thinner blanket on top. Paige moved to the bars and looked out right and left. Two more cells, still being worked on, sat across from her. At the end of the hall, near a rear exit, was a large wood stove radiating heat throughout the space. She supposed she would be comfortable enough. She looked down the hallway toward the office The door between the two was thick and heavy. She wondered if they would even hear her if she called out to them.

It didn't matter. She didn't have anything to say. She lay down on the bed, exhausted

and sore. Her knee and her hand throbbed. She raised her arms to look at her bruised hand, covered with dried blood that cracked when she flexed her fingers. Was this all her blood she wondered. She tried to imagine herself beating a woman to death with her bare hands and it sickened her. It just wasn't possible. She needed to remember.

She must have drifted off to sleep as the next thing she knew Marshal Fields was coming back down the hall with Peter Hastings in tow and, behind him, Spencer, a satchel slung across her chest. Paige sat up and eyed Spencer who gave her a hard look and an almost imperceptible shake of her head.

Peter Hastings didn't look at her. "Let's do this fast." He said as Marshal Fields unlocked the cell door. "I find this all extremely distasteful."

Paige looked to all of them in confusion. Spencer stood behind her father with a notebook and pencil and wouldn't meet Paige's eyes. Dr. Hastings knelt in front of Paige.

"Dr. Hastings and his daughter are here to document your injuries to be used as evidence either against you or in your defense." He held Paige's eyes. "I suggest you cooperate." He added and it wasn't a suggestion.

Paige nodded and sat up, looking straight ahead.

Dr. Hastings pulled her collar back and measured the abrasions on her neck reciting them out loud while Spencer took notes. "Looks consistent with fingernails, possibly from someone trying to fight off an attacker."

Paige stiffened at his prejudiced assessment but remained still and silent. He moved to her hands and turned her right hand over in his. He instructed her to open and close her fist. "Bruised not broken with abrasions over the metacarpal-phalangeal joint. Obviously from a punch."

"More than one?" The Marshal asked.

"Maybe, I can't be certain." Dr. Hastings replied.

Dr. Hastings lifted Paige's pant leg. "Swelling of the tissues surrounding the right knee. I understand this is an old injury."

"Yes." The Marshal confirmed. "Would this limit her mobility?"

"Almost certainly." Dr. Hastings answered quickly. "Though how much depends on how able she is to tolerate pain."

"I understand." The Marshal nodded. "Are we through?"

"Yes." Dr. Hastings turned to Spencer. "Can you finish up here? Clean her up and take her shirt for evidence like the Marshal asked." He rose and headed for the door to the office. "Can we talk in your office, Marshal?" He asked.

Marshal Fields frowned at the two women. He knew they were friends and he didn't want them talking but he needed his prisoner cleaned up and healthy. He couldn't have her getting sick while in his custody. He also needed her changed so he could take her shirt.

"Just do what you need to do and keep it quick." He told Spencer.

"Yes, Sir." She agreed and moved to Paige. "Marshal, can you remove the manacles, please?"

The Marshal looked hard at Spencer. "No."

"How is she supposed to take off her shirt like this?" Spencer cocked an eyebrow at him.

The Marshal didn't like being challenged but Spencer was right. "Fine." He moved to Paige who held out her hands eagerly. He unlocked the manacles letting the iron rings fall away.

Paige couldn't help a small groan of relief she massaged her sore wrists. Spencer pulled a clean shirt for her from the satchel. "Change." She said brusquely.

Paige sighed taking off her coat and unbuttoned her shirt. Stripping down to her undershirt, relieved to be away from the blood and filth that covered it. She handed her coat and shirt to Spencer who passed them to her father.

Paige slipped into the clean shirt Spencer offered her and buttoned it, shakily. The Marshal held the chains out to her again and Paige shook her head. "You don't need to..." She breathed.

"As long as Miss Hastings is alone with you you'll be shackled." He said definitively.

Paige looked to Spencer who nodded slightly. She held out her arms and let the Marshal tighten the iron around her again. Paige winced at the locks clicked into place.

"Are you coming, Marshal?" Dr. Hastings was waiting impatiently by the door.

"We'll be right outside the door if you need anything." The Marshal said the Spencer.

"I'll be fine." She assured him and remained where she stood as the men left them alone in the cell.

Paige breathed out a breath. "Spencer, I'm so glad to see you-"

"Quiet!" Spencer barked and began removing supplies from her satchel.

Paige blinked in surprise. "Spencer?"

Spencer met her eyes and held a finger to her lips, shaking her head for Paige to stop talking. Spencer suspected they would be listening. She began to clean the scratches along Paige's neck. There were four of them running more or less parallel for about six inches. Not deep but still able to become infected if not looked after.

Spencer smoothed ointment across her skin but left them uncovered. She turned Paige's hand over and examined her abraded knuckles. She poured disinfecting alcohol over her hand and wiped at the crusted blood.

Paige winced but didn't pull away as Spencer cleaned her hand. The cuts began to bleed again and Spencer dabbed at them with a clean cloth. She picked up Paige's hand, bringing it close to her face.

"What?" Paige whispered.

Spencer reached for a tweezers and pulled debris from the abrasions. "Wood splinters." She whispered back. "What happened?" She asked quietly.

Paige shook her head. "I can't remember anything. I woke up in the stable behind the Rosewood this morning."

Spencer frowned. "Drunk?"

Paige sighed and shook her head again. "No. No way." She whispered harshly. "I wouldn't do that to Emily."

"But you don't remember?" Spencer prodded. "Your clothes are soaked in whiskey but I only saw you drinking beer last night."

Paige's eyes widened. "You saw me last night?"

Spencer frowned at her. "You don't remember anything?" She considered this. "For how long? What's the last thing you do remember?"

Paige turned inward and shrugged. "Waking up with Emily...we had...we spent the morning in bed…" She blinked. "...after that nothing."

Spencer chewed her lip. "Doesn't sound like an alcohol blackout. Drugs, maybe."

Paige's mouth dropped open. "I was drugged?" It would certainly explain a lot.

"Maybe. I'll have to check some things. I have to go." She placed a hand on Paige's knee. "Are you alright?"

Paige swallowed around the lump in her throat and fought back tears. "Emily?"

"I'm going to go see her now. Can I tell her you're alright?" Spencer asked again.

Paige nodded. "Tell her I love her."

Spencer gripped the chain at Paige's wrists gently. "I'll ask them to unlock these."

"Thank you." Paige breathed and looked at her friend. "You believe I didn't do what they say?"

Spencer held her eyes but hedged. "I believe there are a lot of unanswered questions and I intend to get to the bottom of them."

Paige nodded. It was enough for now. "Take care of Emily."

"I will" Spencer nodded and called for the Marshal. He returned and let her out of the cell. "You should remove those manacles now. They'll inhibit blood flow and slow down healing to her hand." She informed him.

He nodded and moved to release Paige's wrists again. Paige nodded her thanks to Spencer as Marshal Fields led Spencer through the door to his office.


	4. Chapter 4

"Emily, please calm down." Spencer tried. She had barely stepped through the door when Emily, pacing frantically, had started raging, barely coherent.

"What the hell is going on!" Emily paced furiously, her eyes mad with worry and anger. "I don't understand what's happened. Please, tell me what's happened!" She cried.

Spencer stopped her with a hand around her waist. "Emily, I swear to God, if you don't calm down I will sedate you." She led a more pliable Emily to the sofa and pushed her down.

Emily dropped her head into her hands, gulping for breath, panic threatening to overwhelm her. "Why is this happening to us?"

Spencer knelt in front of her. "I know it's bad right now, Honey. We're going to figure this out. The important thing is Paige is alright."

Emily's eyes flashed. "The important thing is the town is probably building a gallows as we speak to have her swinging by the morning!" Emily raged.

Spencer shook her head. "Emily-"

"Wait!" Emily blurted. "You've seen her?"

"Yes, Emily, I'm trying to tell you." Spencer offered a smile. "Now, please, just take a breath and listen to me."

"And she's alright?" Emily breathed.

Spencer nodded. "She's not hurt. She's scared and confused. She's worried about you."

Emily gave a small laugh. "Of course, she is. Did she tell you what happened?"

Spencer shrugged. "She says she doesn't remember. Nothing since yesterday morning. She doesn't remember meeting us for dinner even."

Emily's widened. "She must have been really drunk."

"I'm not so sure." Spencer said. "It's not just a drunken haze and her memory loss shouldn't go back that far. Maybe a head injury would explain it…." Spencer thought to herself.

"A head injury?" Emily gasped.

"Sorry…" Spencer said. "...just thinking out loud. She's not hurt like that. I'm wondering, though, if she could have been drugged."

"Are you serious?" Emily asked. "Why would someone do that?"

"I don't know, Emily." Spencer asked frustrated. "To set her up? To create a plausible suspect? To get their hands on a convenient murder weapon?"

"What murder weapon?" This is the first Emily was hearing of it.

Spencer winced. "Paige's cane was found covered in blood near Ali's body."

Emily groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "Ali's body…." She breathed.

"I know." Spencer said quietly. With everything that happened already they hadn't even talked about Alison. She had been their friend. As much as Alison was anyone's friend and now she was gone.

"I don't understand." Emily said again.

"I don't either. Yet." Spencer agreed. " There's something else. When I was cleaning up Paige's hand I found wood splinters in the wound."

"Meaning?" Emily asked.

"Meaning." Spencer chewed her lip. "Whatever Paige hit it wasn't a person. She said she woke up in the stable. I'm going to start there."

Emily stood. "I'll come with you." She was eager to do something. Anything to help.

"No." Spencer held up her hand. "I don't think that's a good idea. The town is really in an uproar right now. I don't think you being out and about will be a good for anyone."

"So, what?" Emily threw her hands out in exasperation. "I'm just supposed to sit here and hide out while my father….my father has Paige locked up?" Tears threatened again behind her eyes.

"Yes." Spencer gripped her hands. "For now, yes. Get some rest, get cleaned up and come into town later with Toby. I should know more then."

"Spencer…" Emily began helplessly.

"Trust me." Spencer said and held her eyes. "What stall were the horses in last night?" She asked.

Emily thought for a moment. "The last on the left."

"Good." Spencer offered Emily a small smile. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

Emily, Hanna, Toby and Caleb settled in chairs around Marshal Fields' desk. Caleb's leg jittered, Hanna plucked at a loose thread on her coat, Emily couldn't keep her eyes still and kept glancing to the door that led to the cells, knowing that Paige was close by but she couldn't get to her. Even Toby looked uncharacteristically anxious but probably had more to do with Spencer being late than the real reason they were there.

"So, I would normally conduct these interviews individually." Marshal Fields began. "But I already have multiple accounts of your activities last night so, I'll know if you're not telling me something." He eyed them each in turn.

Hanna bristled. "We don't have anything to hide."

"Good." He replied. "Then let's cut to the chase. What time did you all leave the saloon last night?" He asked.

Hanna shrugged. "We all left pretty soon after the performance." She offered. "Around 10:00 probably."

He raised an eyebrow. "All of you?"

"I stayed to close up the bar with Holden, of course." Caleb volunteered.

"And Paige?" Marshal Fields looked pointedly at Emily.

Emily straightened and stared back at her father. "Paige stayed to play cards." She said.

"With?" He checked his notes. He already knew but wanted to see how much they knew about Paige's activities.

"With Ezra Fitzgerald, Ian Thomas, Carter Hackett and Dr. Hastings." Emily answered. "Maybe some others, I don't know."

"Had she been drinking?" He swept his gaze across them all again.

"We shared a couple bottles of wine with dinner." Caleb replied.

Marshal Fields waited, patiently for more.

Emily sighed. "I saw her with a beer after she moved over to the poker table."

"Nothing more than that?" He prodded. "Whiskey?"

"If she was drinking whiskey she didn't get it from me." Caleb said defensively.

He looked between them. "What time did she leave?"

Hanna, Toby and Emily looked confusedly at each other. They had already told him they weren't there. Caleb fidgeted in his chair and the Marshal's eyes's turned to him.

* * *

Spencer nodded to a few familiar faces as she walked quickly to the stables. She was late to their meeting at the Marshal's office but she wanted to check out the stall. With any luck she'd have something to offer him to support Paige's innocence.

There were a few horses stabled and she nodded to the young stable hand as she rushed in. The last stall on the left was empty. She checked around her. The stable boy was busy mucking out another stall and paying her no mind.

She unlatched the door and swung it in. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. She kicked halfheartedly through the hay, unearthing old lumps of horse manure, scraps of leather from worn tack and a coin. She looked along the walls. They were worn wood slats nailed together with a small space between. Spencer eyed the walls and clenched her fist. She moved slowly, throwing a mock punch to see where it would land against the wall. She held her fist there for a moment and mentally adjusted the spot up a few inches to account for Paige's greater height. She heard a sound behind her and caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned but saw no one but the stable boy down the aisle. It must have been him.

She turned back to the wall and with her spot in mind she worked her way around the stall, brushing her fingertips lightly against the wood. She saw missing knots, nails, and boards broken but the ends too gray and weather worn to have happened last night. She was almost all the way around when she stopped and sucked in a breath. She hadn't really been hopeful of finding anything but, another hands width higher, was a splintered board. She plucked at the frayed wood, it was yellow indicating the break was fresh. Could this be what Paige hit last night? It was time to get to the Marshal's office and let him know her suspicions.

"Spencer!" A voice barked at her from behind.

She whirled, a hand going to her chest. "Dad!" She breathed in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

He looked at her hard, his eyes flicking to the broken board behind her. "What do you think I'm doing here?" He snapped. "I'm looking for you. Someone saw you come in here."

"Oh." Spencer replied shakily and forced a smile. "Right. Well, here I am."

He frowned at her. "I need you back at the clinic to help me with the examination of the body."

Spencer paled. There was only one body to which he could be referring.

Dr. Hastings noted his daughter's distress and his expression softened. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I know she was your friend. If you don't feel like you can-"

Spencer swallowed hard and straightened. "No, Dad. It's alright. I'll help." She agreed.

He smiled. "Good, I'll walk you back."

"Actually, I'm suppose to be at the Marshal's office right now. He wants to talk to us about last night." She said. "I'll come back to the clinic when I'm through."

Her father's face turned dark. "I always thought there was something off about that McCullers woman." He said sharply.

Spencer opened her mouth the protest but thought better of it. "I'll see you later." She said and hurried out of the stable.

* * *

"Caleb?" The Marshal asked. "Do you need me to repeat the question?"

"No, sorry…" He began. "...I think Paige left around midnight."

"You think?" Marshal Fields questioned.

"She did, I know she did. I saw her leave." Caleb answered with confidence.

Marshal Fields quirked his mouth. "So, then, you also saw what happened when she left." It wasn't a question.

"I...uh…" Caleb stammered his eyes flicking to Emily.

"Caleb?" Hanna placed her hand on his leg to still his jittering. "What's he talking about.

Caleb looked to Emily again, seeing her frown with worry, and licked his lips. "Alison came down and, um, she was flirting with Paige at the card table."

Emily stiffened. She knew Paige and Alison had had their moments. She had seen it. That was before when Paige was so troubled and lost. She didn't for a moment believe there was anything more to it than to it and she knew it wasn't still going on. Didn't she?

"Go on." The Marshal encouraged.

"Paige got up to leave right after. She headed to the door and Alison followed her…." He trailed off.

"And?" Marshal Fields prodded again. He already knew what happened but he wanted them to hear it from Caleb. He wanted Emily to hear it from Caleb. She wouldn't believe it otherwise.

Caleb shrugged. "It looked like they had words. Alison was angry with Paige and tried to stop her from leaving."

"Why?" This part the Marshal didn't know and hoped maybe they could shed some light on what was said. No one had heard their conversation.

Caleb shrugged. "I don't know. I couldn't hear what they were talking about." He glanced to Emily, sheepishly. She wasn't looking at him anymore but staring down at her hands.

"Was there something going on between the two of them?" The Marshal knew that question would sting but this was a murder investigation and, from what he had learned already, Paige and Alison had some kind of relationship. If it had gone wrong it could prove to be a solid motive for murder.

Emily's head snapped up and she glared at her father but couldn't form the words to protest.

"No!" Caleb replied.

"That's absurd!" Shouted Hanna.

Even Toby shook his head in denial of the idea that Alison and Paige were involved.

Marshal Fields believed them and he didn't want to press the subject any more. No one else had been able to confirm anything beyond a casual relationship between them.

"Alright." He said. "That's enough for now." He rose.

Emily stood, too. "I want to see Paige." She demanded of her father.

He sighed. "I don't think so, Emily."

Emily eyes widened. "You said I could see her this afternoon." She protested.

"I know what I said." He answered her sharply. "But that's not going to happen now. I have some more questions for her and you all need to leave."

Emily could feel tears pricking behind her eyes. She had tried to be patient and calm, to cooperate with her father's investigation but she needed to see for herself that Paige was okay. To talk to her. To let her know she loved her and believed in her innocence. "Dad, please, don't do this." She pleaded.

"Emily, this is a murder investigation and I am the Marshal of this town." He said. "This isn't personal."

"Isn't it?" Emily yelled at him. "Aren't you so afraid of looking like you're favoring Paige that you're going out of your way to be hard on her? Hard on us?"

"That's not what this is about." He yelled back. "All the evidence indicates that she beat a woman to death. Do you want me to just overlook that?" He couldn't control his own anger at the situation. He knew his daughter was hurting, that he was part of the cause but he couldn't help her.

"Do you really think that?" Emily asked shocked. "After everything Paige has done for me? For us?"

"She's killed before!" Her father shot back without thinking.

Emily's head snapped back at his words. "So have I." She said darkly. "So, have you." She gestured to her friends. "So, has Caleb and Toby. Do you think that makes us all capable of murder?" She raged.

"Emily, Goddamnit!" He shouted. "If I lose my job over this I can't protect her!"

Emily blinked. "What?" She breathed.

He had said too much. He needed to maintain his objectivity and distance and if that meant keeping them apart then so be it. Emily was right. He was overcompensating to ensure no one accused him of giving Paige special treatment. As a result they were both suffering greatly. He could see no other way.

Marshal Fields glared at Toby. "Take her home." Her growled.

"Dad!" Emily shouted, Hanna and Caleb came to stand next to her. Hanna slipped an arm about her waist to urge her toward the door. "Dad, please…" Emily begged and shook off Hanna's arm.

"Get her out of here!" Her father bellowed at them. "Now!"

Toby and Caleb stepped in and wrapped their arms around Emily, pulling her toward the door as she struggled against them. "Don't do this. Help us, please…" She pleaded.

The door closed on his daughter's heartbreaking cries. He closed his eyes tightly and took a breath. His heart ached for her. "I am helping, Baby." He whispered to the empty room.

* * *

**Thank you faithful followers! Your reviews and plot speculations make me happy (I'm talking to you ,Waterbug86 and go-sullivan). Read on!**


	5. Chapter 5

Spencer hurried back into town. She skidded in the snow as she saw Toby and Caleb helping a distraught Emily into the wagon. Hanna looked shaken, as well.

"What's going on?" Spencer asked, her eyes flicking between them. "Did something happen?" She looked worriedly up at Emily who was trembling, tears streaming down her face.

Hanna answered from the ground. "Her father wouldn't let Emily see Paige."

Spencer placed a hand on Emily's knee. "Oh, Honey, I'm sorry." She said. "I know this is hard."

"I'm taking Emily home." Toby said. "Will you come with us? I think Emily could really use you, right now."

"I can't." Spencer grimaced. "I have to talk to the Marshal still-"

Toby interrupted her. "Where were you before?"

Spencer shook her head and led him away from the wagon. "I can't talk about it yet." She said. "I need to speak with Emily's father and then I need to help my own father examine Ali's body."

Toby's eyes widened in surprise. "He asked you to do that?"

"Yes, well, he gave me an out but I want to." She explained. "I need to understand better what happened."

Toby shook his head and opened his mouth to protest.

"I can't explain it all right now." She glanced to Emily. "Get her home. Hanna, can you go with them?"

"Sure." Hanna answered. "Mona has the shop." She explained.

"I'll come by the ranch later." Spencer assured Toby as she stood on her toes to kiss him swiftly. "Take care of Emily."

"I will." He answered and watched her hurry off the the Marshal's office.

Spencer didn't bother knocking but, in her excitement, threw the door open to the Marshal's office. "Marshal Fields?" She called.

He was sitting at his desk, head bent into his hands. He looked up sharply at Spencer's arrival. She noticed he looked drawn and tired, the lines around his eyes seeming to have deepened over the course of the day.

"I'm sorry to barge in on you." Spencer began. " I think there's something you should see."

"Spencer." The Marshal hardened his expression. "I expected you an hour ago. I am a busy man and I don't work to your schedule."

Spencer bounced up and down on the balls of her feet. "I know and I'm sorry." She said. "Just let me explain." She said breathily.

The Marshal stared at her and crossed his arms. "I'm listening."

Spencer breathed a sigh of relief that he would, at least, hear her out. "This morning when I was treating Paige I noticed there were wood splinters in the wounds on her hand." She left that hanging for a moment to see if the Marshal drew the same conclusions she had. His eyes narrowed but he remained silent. She took it as a good sign.

"Unless whoever she was swinging at had wooden dentures, a la our illustrious president, she didn't hit a person." She paused again waiting for the Marshal to jump in. He merely nodded but listened intently.

"Paige maintains she doesn't remember what happened…" She trailed off as she saw him scowl at her. She just let slip that she had spoken to her. She rushed on. "...anyway Paige woke up in the stall where she had stabled Hank when they met us for dinner. I thought maybe something happened there. I took a look around and I found a freshly broken board in the wall." She looked at him expectantly.

"So?" He replied.

"So, it was at just at the right height if Paige were taking a swing at someone in the stall." She said excitedly. She waited a long time for him to reply.

"Show me." The Marshal demanded and reached for his coat.

Spencer led the Marshal around the the stables, nodding again at the stable boy who eyed her quizzically, and back to the stall with the broken board.

"What!?" She breathed as she walked up the wall. The board was gone entirely, nails protruding crookedly from the wood where it had been pried loose. "It was right here!" She gestured to the wall and looked at him, frantically.

The Marshal shook his head. "I don't have time for this, Spencer." He said angrily. "I know you want to help but-"

"No!" She shouted. "I swear, it was here. You have to believe me. I don't understand." She ran her hands through her hair and looked around. "Hey!" She shouted to the stable boy."Did someone come in here after me?" She demanded.

He stared at her and blinked. "People are always coming." He answered.

"Who?" She took a step toward him and he shrank away from her. "Who came in here?"

The boy's eyes widened at her. "I...don't know….I don't pay them no mind…" He stammered.

The Marshal came up and gripped her shoulder. "That's enough, Spencer." He said.

The boy wanted to be helpful. "I saw...I saw the Doc come in after you….he's all I remember…" He offered.

Spencer stopped. Her father. He saw her in here. Did he know what she was looking for? "This doesn't make any sense." She mumbled her mind going in a million different directions.

"I have to get back to the office." The Marshal said. "I appreciate your concern, Spencer, but I think you best leave the investigating to me." With that he turned and walked out.

* * *

Paige paced her cell. She had been alone in there for hours. She had thought she heard Emily a while ago. Her heart raced thinking that Emily had come to see her but no one came. She was frantic not knowing what was going on. She had seen no one since Spencer that morning. Was Emily staying away from her because she didn't want to see her? Because she thought she was guilty? Paige's guts twisted at the thought of Emily afraid of her, thinking she had done this.

The door to the office opened and Paige craned her neck to see past the bars and down the hall. It wasn't Emily but her father. She stood back from the bars and waited, defiantly, as he unlocked the door to her cell his face hard and his eyes fixed on her. He had a worn looking wool coat over his arm

Her eyes flicked to the manacles dangling from his hand and she took another step back. "What's going on?" She asked, her voice hoarse from disuse.

"You're coming with me." He said, tossing the coat to her and closing the distance between them.

She caught it but backed up against the wall. "Where?" She asked nervously.

"Put it on." He ignored her question. " And hold out your hands."

Paige didn't move but tried to school her expression. She didn't want him to see her afraid.

He stared her down. "We can do this the hard way if you'd rather?" He said simply.

She took a few short breaths and met his eyes. She didn't think he would hurt her. He looked worried and tired, not angry, but she wasn't willing to challenge him further. It would get her nowhere. She slipped the too large and musty smelling coat on and held out her hands.

He locked the shackles around her wrists, The iron heavy and bruising against her skin, the short chain keeping her hands tight in front of her. The Marshal gripped her upper arm and turned her toward the back door.

Paige limped along next to him, embarrassed at how much support she needed. He didn't rush her and Paige took that as a small sign he actually cared that walking was difficult for her.

He unlocked the back door and let them through, locking it again behind them. They were behind the jail and the Marshal picked their way, carefully, around the lumber scraps and tools from the ongoing construction. The work on hold until after he sorted this mess out.

Paige stumbled a bit on the uneven ground, biting back a small gasp as her foot came down on a brick and her knee twisted. The Marshal slowed, moving his arm around her waist to support her, but didn't speak.

They worked their way behind the shops until he knew they were even with the side of the saloon. The Marshal wanted to keep Paige off the main street as much as possible but they would be seen, at least for a few minutes, while they crossed the street.

They moved up through a narrow alley that exited between two shops. Marshal Fields shifted his grip from her waist back to her arm and hustled her, faster than was comfortable for her, across the street all the while sweeping his eyes over the people they passed and glaring at anyone who stared too long or looked as if to speak.

They moved down another alley at the side of the saloon and came out the back where a rickety staircase led directly to the second floor so the girls could come and go during the day without traipsing through the main room.

Paige's breathing was labored slightly and her knee throbbed. She eyed the steep stairs and grimaced, part in pain and part in apprehension. She knew now where they were headed. "I need a minute." She gasped and bent to rub her aching leg with her chained hands.

The Marshal's chest tightened as he watched Paige struggling without complaint. He wanted to do something for her but couldn't. He had to remain detached until he knew for sure. Spencer's claim a short time ago had him thinking maybe there was a chance for her. He wanted, desperately, to believe she hadn't done this awful thing. For all of their sakes. He needed proof. If not her than who? If there was a murderer on the loose in his town he needed to know and fast.

"Let's go." He said and slipped his arm around her waist again.

The stairs were slow and Paige gritted her teeth with each step, gripping the rail in her hands to help pull herself along and leaning heavily on Emily's father. At the top, she sighed and bent again for a moment before he hustled her inside and quickly down the hallway to Alison's room before they were seen by too many people.

The room was dark, Paige couldn't see but wrinkled her nose at the rotten coppery smell of congealing blood. "Why are we here?" She asked softly.

She heard the Marshal move around behind her, heard a match strike followed by the room brightening with lantern light.

Paige blinked in the light and sucked in a breath, groaning deep in her throat at the sight. The room was destroyed, bedclothes in disarray, drawers emptied and overturned and clothes everywhere. And the blood. The blood was thick and splattered everywhere. The bed, the walls, the floor. Paige followed a trail of it with her eyes as it arced across the ceiling.

She groaned again and moved her hands to cover her mouth, her stomach roiling at the sight. "Why are you showing me this?" She swallowed thickly as she felt bile rise in her throat.

Marshal Fields studied her reaction carefully. If she had been the cause of this violence she was a damn good liar. Of course, she would have to have been to have fooled them for so long. It didn't prove anything but he wanted to see what she did when confronted with the horror of this room. "Just wanted to see if anything jogged your memory." He said mockingly,

Paige squeezed her eyes shut and took a breath. She opened them again to look around more carefully. Obviously, the body had been removed. She could tell the spot on the floor where it lay as there was a thick, central pool of blood at the foot of the four poster bed. The mattress, too, was heavy with blood. Paige assumed the attack started while Alison was asleep. The attacker either dragged her out of bed or she was able to move on her own to try and escape but he finished her off.

Not far from the pool of blood on the floor was a thin, long blood print, hooked at one end. It wasn't hard to determine that's where they found her cane covered in blood. The murder weapon.

Paige considered the room from a different perspective. "Why has the room been turned over?" She asked.

"You tell me." The Marshall shot back.

Paige thought for a moment. "It looks like someone was looking for something." She offered.

"It's a possibility." The Marshal agreed. "What did she have that you wanted?" He challenged.

Paige turned sharply to him and narrowed her eyes. "You know I didn't do this." She snapped at him.

"I don't know that at all." He replied. "Your pendant." He gestured to the blood print. "Your cane. You fought with Alison hours before she was attacked."

Paige blinked and took a step back. "What?" She asked. Just like everything else she had no memory of that.

He didn't even wait for her to catch her breath. "You're history of violence against women…" He let his sentence hang in the air.

She looked stricken but he pressed on. "I have witnesses that claim you assaulted Emily at the Rosewood last month." He knew that was an overdramatization. If he had really believed that he would have drummed her out of town himself.

"No…" She whispered. "I didn't...I didn't mean…." She stammered.

"That the the following day there were bruises around her neck." He lowered his voice and gripped her arm hard. "Did you or did you not lay your hands on Emily in anger?" He demanded menacingly. He knew what had happened from Toby, about her nightmares, how she lost herself in fear and guilt. He had seen it before. He had felt it before. He hated himself for using it against her now. She wasn't responsible for what had happened then. If anything she should be commended for her strength and seeking help. He had seen men break under far less stress and seek solace in a bottle or, worse, at the end of a gun.

She began to tremble. "It was...an accident...I didn't know…"

He glared at her hard. "It will all come out during a trial, Paige. Do you really want to put Emily thought that?"

She shook her head. "What do you want from me?" She breathed.

"Tell me what happened." He demanded.

Paige let her eyes drift closed and let out a long breath. "I don't know."

Marshal Fields had brought her here to rattle her and it was working. He decided to take advantage and push her, changing directions again. "Cut the act, Paige. Everyone knows you and Alison had a thing going."

Paige staggered back again, shaking her head. "No...that's not true…"

She was shaken and confused. He wanted her on her heels with her guard down.

"Was this a lover's quarrel? Did she spurn your advances?" He pressed on and took a step toward her.

"No…" Paige raised her hands as if to protect herself from assault. Her head was spinning. She couldn't remember but she knew it wasn't true. She didn't do this.

"Was this about Emily?" The Marshal stepped closer again and decided to go in for the kill. The one thing he believed wasn't ever a question was this woman's love for his daughter. "Were you afraid she was going back to Alison?" He growled at her.

Paige froze, feeling the blood rush from her head. "What?" She whispered. Emily and Alison? She shook her head, her vision blurring and narrowing to a pinpoint.

Marshal Fields saw the color drain from her face at his words. She didn't know. He wasn't supposed to know. It had been a brief affair several months before Paige came into Emily's life and they had been discreet but he knew everything in his town. It was his job.

He stepped back from the young woman to give her some space as her breathing grew ragged and she paled further. He had come at her hard, hoping for a reaction and he got what he wanted. He couldn't prove it, of course, and it didn't change anything but he believed. Paige didn't do this. She was a victim.

She sagged against the wall and he got an arm around her before she collapsed completely. "Just breathe." He said. He leaned over to blow out the lantern and toe the door open with his boot. He had to get out of there. He supported most of her weight as they stepped back onto the balcony and down the hall. He risked a glance down to the floor. It was quiet with the few patrons busy with their food and drink. He looked to the bar to see Caleb staring up at him angrily. Marshal Fields knew he wasn't the only eyes and ears of this town. He tore his eyes away and moved fast back the way they had come.


	6. Chapter 6

Spencer circled the body, dried blood soaked through the sheet at the head. Her heart hammered in her chest. She had assisted her father with exams like this before but never someone she knew well and never someone that had died so violently.

He father was getting a gown and apron on to protect his clothes. He had tasked her with unwrapping the body but she hadn't yet moved to do that. The sheet was wrapped tight and stuck with blood. She wasn't going to be able to unwrap it. She hefted a pair of steel surgical scissors and cut up alongside the sheet from the bottom up exposing first the pale skin of her legs, her arms and chest. She was clad only in a thin cotton shift. As Spencer peeled the sheet away from her body something thin and hard dropped into her hands. It was Paige's cane. The one she had made for her. They had wrapped it up with the body, she supposed, to keep the evidence together.

Spencer picked it up and held in carefully in her hands. It was crusted with blackened blood, some of which flaked off onto her hands and fluttered onto the floor. She moved it closer to the light and started at the bottom. The lower third if the wood was dinged and nicked all around from use and from Paige crashing it into things or using it to reach something without getting up.

As she made her way up to the middle the wear on the wood lessened and the blood thickened. At the handle the wood was blood covered but smooth and intact. Not a chip or dent in the wood at all. That shouldn't be possible.

Spencer set the cane aside and moved back to the body. She had to work with gentle but firm force to tease the sheet away from the head. It made a small wet tearing sound as she peeled it away from the face.

Spencer gasped in horror at the sight of her friend. Her face was a bloody, unrecognizable pulp. Her beautiful blonde hair, stringy and matted with blood and brain matter from an open and glistening skull fracture. One eye bulged from it's socket while the other was swollen closed. Ragged ends of bone were visible across her nose and cheeks where the blows had been so forceful they shattered her face, driving bone through her skin. Her mouth was a bloody mess of ripped tissue and broken teeth.

Spencer took a step back, her hands going to her mouth to stifle a scream. This wasn't just a murder. This was beyond vicious. If she had ever doubted Paige's innocence she didn't any longer. There was no way she could have done this. Spencer couldn't imagine how anyone could do something like this.

"Spencer." Her father called to her.

She jumped and let out a shriek at the sound of his voice. Her hands shook and tears burned in her eyes. It was too real, too grotesque. This wasn't how she wanted to remember Alison. Ali, so full of fire and life reduced to this bloody horror show.

"I'm….sorry…." Her voice cracked. "I...I...can't…." Tears spilled down her face.

Her father closed the distance between them and pulled his daughter into his arms. "Shhh." He whispered. "It's okay. It's okay." He smoothed her hair and kissed the top of her head. "I'm sorry, Spencer. I should have never asked you to do this."

She returned his embrace and cried into his chest for a few moments. He turned her away from the body and pushed her gently away. "Go. I'll take care of this."

Spencer nodded through her tears and raced out the door.

* * *

Marshal Fields helped Paige back in through the back door. She offered no resistance as he sat her down on the bunk in her cell. He unlocked the manacles and tucked them into his belt. She didn't move but sat, staring lifelessly at nothing.

He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to tell her Emily had been there, would have torn him apart to get to her if her friends hadn't dragged her away. He wanted to tell her he believed that she didn't kill Alison but he couldn't. If people didn't think he considered Paige the only suspect then she could be in danger. They all could be in danger. The killer was still out there and the only advantage they had was that he thought he had gotten away with murder.

He couldn't say any of that but he did what he could. He threw a bunch of fresh logs on the fire and the wood stove blasted heat through the cells. He moved back into his office quickly, leaving her cell door open, and came back with a generous glass of whiskey to help warm her and ease her pain, both physical and emotional.

He held it out to her. Her eyes flicked to it before closing, as she pushed his hand away and curled up onto the bunk, turning away from him and wrapping her arms across her chest as if in pain.

"Paige…" He began not really knowing what he was going to say.

"Get out." She said toward the wall.

He couldn't apologize. He couldn't explain. He couldn't help her but to keep her safe so he left, locking the door behind him.

The Marshal stepped back out into the office. Andrew Campbell was there warming his hands by the fire and shaking off the cold.

"Here." Marshal Fields handed him the glass of whiskey.

The Deputy looked at it with surprise and suspicion.

"Drink it before I change my mind." He said.

The young man sucked it down gratefully. "Thank you, Sir."

"You can thank me my going over to the saloon and getting a meal for Pai...the prisoner." He corrected himself as he handed his Deputy some coins. "She hasn't eaten all day and we need her alive at least long enough to stand trial." He quipped. He was laying it on thick but it was better this way. He trusted his deputies and knew they were professional but everyone talked to someone. If he showed any kindness or sympathy toward her word would get around.

Deputy Campbell nodded and headed back out into the cold.

The Marshal thought briefly about his next move. What he really wanted to do was go see Emily, hold her and tell her he was sorry for not trusting her, not believing in her and causing her so much pain. He pushed the thought from his mind. He had to remain silent about what he knew and what he suspected or risk them all.

Doc Hastings was examining Alison DiLaurentis' body today. He would start there. Maybe piece some information together that he could actually use. He turned up the collar on his coat and headed down the street.

His usual vigilance when about town was tempered by the cold and his inner reeling thoughts. As a result he had his face buried in his collar and didn't see Spencer as she ran out from the side of the house and collided with him so hard he staggered back several steps letting out a grunt of air as she ran right into his chest.

He gripped her arms as they righted themselves before both going down to the ground. "Whoa...whoa…" He said and helped her stay on her feet. He looked at her. Her eyes were red rimmed and wild looking and her face tear stained. She was breathing hard and moved to go around him with a mumbled apology. "Spencer?" He said with concern. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing." She blurted. "I have to go." She turned away.

He stopped her with a gentle hand on her arm. "Tell me what happened." He said seriously. "It this about Alison?"

At the mention of her name Spencer started to shake and her eyes flicked toward the inside of the clinic. He understood. Spencer had seen her body. He, too, had been shaken at the sight of the brutality of what had been done to her. "I'm sorry." He offered. "You shouldn't have had to see that. I know she was your friend."

Spencer nodded and sniffed, wiping at her eyes. She took a deep breath to pull herself together. She wanted to tell him about her observations of Paige's cane. That she didn't think there was any way it was the murder weapon. She opened her mouth to speak and hesitated. He hadn't believed her about the broken board in the stable. This, though, he could see for himself.

He looked at her expectantly. There was something on her mind and he knew her well enough to know that it was probably important. "What is it?" He said gently.

Spencer took a deep calming breath. "There's not a mark on the handle of Paige's cane. Blood, yes, but not a chip, dent or scratch." She eyed him to see if he was following her and saw him frown before she continued. "Alison's face and head were crushed through the bone. There is no way-"

"That it could be the murder weapon." He finished her sentence.

Spencer's eyes drifted closed with relief and she took a shuddering breath. "I'm not even certain that cane could have done so much damage. It's not heavy enough. It would have had to have been swung with such force-"

"It would have snapped." He finished for her again and nodded. "I understand."

"So, you believe me? You know Paige didn't do this?" Spencer said hopefully.

Marshal Fields' eyes darkened and he gripped Spencer hard by the arm. "Spencer." He said in a low voice. "You need to let this go." He looked around to see if anyone was watching their conversation.

Spencer shook her head. "But-"

"Listen!" He hissed. "There is a murderer out there who did that to your friend and we have no idea why. He thinks he's safe because we have Paige locked up. The whole town thinks they're safe because we have Paige locked up. If we say otherwise all hell will break loose and he'll know we're on to him."

"I have to tell Emily!" She protested. "You have to tell Paige."

"We can't!" He insisted. "If Paige did take a swing at someone in the barn she could have seen him even though she can't remember right now. If the real killer knows we're looking for him she's not safe. Neither is Emily and neither are you! Do you understand?"

Spencer frowned. "But if someone was watching me at the stable and was worried enough to take out that board before anyone else saw it wouldn't they already know we're looking?"

She had a point. "They'll know you were you were looking. Assuming someone was still hanging around they saw me brushing you off." He answered. "I need to know you can do what I ask, Spencer, and keep quiet about this."

"I don't know if I can do that?" Spencer breathed. "Emily she's...she's coming apart over this."

"I know." He said and felt the pain in his heart for his daughter. "I know but it's the only way to keep her safe right now. Please, trust me on this and don't say anything."

Spencer chewed her lip. She didn't know how to keep this from her best friends, from Toby. She would, though, to protect them. She nodded. "How long?" She asked.

"As long as it takes." He answered seriously.

Spencer considered this. "Are you going to keep them away from each other until then?"

"No." Marshal Fields sighed. "No, I can't do that. You can let Emily know she can come down in the morning and see her."

Spencer nodded. "I'll tell her."

* * *

Hanna covered Emily with a blanket. She had spent the rest of the afternoon pacing and raging against her father and worrying about Paige until she had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep on the sofa, helped along by Hanna plying her with whiskey to calm her.

Hanna set another log on the fire and sat down in the armchair next to Emily. She, too, must have fallen asleep as the next thing she knew the door was creaking open followed by a blast of frigid air and Toby and Spencer.

Hanna rose and stretched motioning her friends into the kitchen so they wouldn't wake Emily. "Spencer, where have you been?" Hanna asked.

"Sorry." Spencer shrugged. "I had to meet Marshal Fields and then...I was going to help my father with Ali's...Ali's body." She couldn't talk about it without seeing the gore.

Hanna covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, God, Spence, was it awful?"

Spencer swallowed heavily and Toby slid his arm around her. "It was...it was bad."

"What do we do?" Hanna breathed. "Toby said you may know something more after...after the exam."

"Yes, well, I didn't stay." That part was true. "I think we should just lay low for a while and let Marshal Fields do his job." She suggested.

Hanna eyed her suspiciously. "Emily's father thinks Paige killed Alison and we know different right?" Spencer remained silent and even Toby looked at her questioningly. "Right?" Hanna repeated.

"Right." Spencer finally agreed. She had to tell them something. They would never believe she was just going to sit on her hands. They knew her too well. "But listen, if Paige didn't do this then someone else did. Someone who either saw an opportunity with Paige last night or who had this planned for a while. If they think we think Paige is innocent then Paige could be in danger and, by extension Emily and maybe us."

Hanna frowned at her. "That's a lot of 'ifs' Spencer. Is there something you're not telling us?"

Spencer hedged again. "I just think we should trust Marshal Fields. At least we know Paige is safe where she is."

That, at least, made sense and Toby and Hanna nodded their agreement.

"And Emily?" Toby asked and looked toward the front room where Emily slept on. "What do we tell her?"

"Nothing." Spencer said. "The good news is her father said she could come in the morning to see Paige."

"He said that today, too, and look what happened." Hanna argued. "I've never seen Emily so torn up."

"I know he means it." Spencer replied. "He's worried about her but he just can't be the Marshal and her father right now."

Hanna seemed satisfied for now. "I need to get back to town and see Caleb." She said.

"I'll take you." Toby offered.

"I'll stay with Emily tonight." Spencer added. "She can come in with me in the morning."


	7. Chapter 7

Marshal Fields stood out of the way as Dr. Hastings finished up his exam. It took longer than usual as Spencer hadn't stayed around to help. There were no surprises. The blow to her head that fractured her skull was, most likely, the blow that killed her. Unfortunately, it was far from the first blow and the amount of bleeding and swelling in her face indicated she had been alive for some time during the beating. They could only pray that she wasn't aware of what was happening.

Dr. Hastings was about to rewrap the body when the Marshal stepped forward. "Hold on a second, Doc." He dropped his head, grief etched in his face. "Can I have a minute?"

Dr. Hastings looked surprised for a moment. He hadn't figured the Marshal for the sentimental type. "Um...of course." He stepped back a few feet the give the Marshal some privacy.

Marshal Fields approached the body. He avoided looking at the young woman's face and, instead, pulled up the sheet to cover her modestly. He picked up first her right hand and then her left, her hands were cold and stiff, and lay them gently across her chest in rest. He bent over her a moment longer in silence before turning. "I'll have your final report on my desk tomorrow, Doc?"

"Yes." The Doctor nodded. "By the end of the day."

"Good." He picked up a spare towel and wrapped the cane up. "I'll take this back with me, now."

"Of course." The Doctor said and held up his bloody hands. "You can see yourself out?"

Marshal Fields nodded and tucked the cane under his arm.

He walked back to the office, his mind reeling and with no one to share his thoughts. He thought, briefly, of confiding in one of his deputies but immediately dismissed the idea. He hated to admit it but he wished Spencer were here. She was already in the know and she had a sharp mind.

When he entered the office both deputies were sitting near the woodstove just now eating their supper. It was late but he had asked them to do extra patrols around the town and make themselves as visible as possible to the townsfolk to ease people's fears. And, the part that was unsaid, keep an eye out for a murderer on the loose "All quiet?" He asked.

They nodded in response, their mouths too full and they too polite to reply while chewing.

"I know it's late but I'd like you both to do another sweep after you're finished." He directed.

They were careful not to show their disappointment at not being sent home but he could tell, never the less. "And then you're off duty for the night."

They perked up a bit at that. "I don't think I need to tell you that things are a bit tense out there. Be careful, keep a good eye and if you see anything, feel anything, hear anything or smell anything that doesn't sit right with you you come tell me straight away." He paused and looked hard at them."Do you understand?"

"Yes, Sir." They chorused.

"Finish your food and get out of here." He said as he made his way through the doors to the cells.

It was quiet and dim, the only light from a single lantern hanging on the wall near the back of the room. Prisoners couldn't have lanterns in their cells for fear they would burn the place down.

He came to Paige's cell. She was sitting up on the bunk, her back to the wall, staring at nothing. A plate of food sat untouched just inside the bars where, he suspected, his Deputy had set it. She looked pale and her dark eyes stood in stark contrast as they focused on him, glittering with anger, even in the low light. He was worried. He didn't know what was worse for her. Being locked up, not knowing what had happened or what was going to happen to her, not being able to talk to Emily, thinking that Emily had feelings for someone else or a combination of it all.

His psychological torturing of her certainly didn't help. She looked feral, like a caged animal and it alarmed him. He wondered if he would be handling the stress any better.

"You really should try to eat something." He said to her.

She laughed bitterly. "Fattening me up for the slaughter?"

At least she was responding to him, showing signs of life. "Paige." He began. "I'm just doing my job. Protecting the people I care about."

"From me!" She shot back.

He wanted to tell her she was one of those people he was protecting but didn't. "You would do the same."

"You're right." She said coolly. "I would do the same. I'd protect the people I care about by going out there and finding the person who's responsible for this."

"And what makes you think I'm not doing exactly that?" He shot back before he could help himself.

Her eyes flashed with interest. "What does that mean?" She asked and levered herself off the bunk.

He shook his head. "It means I'm good at my job." He answered and moved to check the woodstove. He threw another couple of logs in and stoked the flames before closing and latching the iron door.

Paige limped to the bars and gripped them to take some of her weight. "No." she eyed him hard. "You know something don't you?"

"I know you better eat something." He said her to change her focus.

"Damn you!" She snarled and kicked at the plate of food, upending it, sending the plate clattering against the bars and food splattering across the floor at his feet. She grunted in pain and clutched her knee. "Why are you doing this to me?" She gasped.

He stepped into one of the cells under construction and grabbed a rag. He cleaned up the food in the walkway and picked up the plate. He didn't want rats. "Lights out." He said as he blew out the lantern. If he stayed any longer he was bound to say too much. The glow of the woodstove was enough to get him back down the hallway without running into something.

* * *

Caleb had his back to the door when Hanna came in and dropped onto a stool at one end of the bar. The Rosewood was quiet. A smattering of diners and drinkers and a card game at the back table. Hanna was too tired to pay much attention to it. She was wrung out from the day. Sad about Alison, worried for Emily and scared for Paige. She needed just to be with Caleb and pretend, maybe, just for a little while, that everything was okay.

"Hey sailor." She purred. "Buy a lady drink?" She asked to his back as he wiped down bottles and polished the wood.

He didn't turn around but grabbed two glasses and his finest bottle of whiskey. He poured for them and dropped a glass in front of his girl.

Hanna drained it and let her eyes close with a sigh as the burn of the liquor spread down her chest and out to her fingertips. She opened her eyes to see Caleb watching her with concern. She reached her hand to his head and smoothed her finger across the furrow of worry between his eyes and waggled her empty glass in front of him.

He sighed at her with a half smile and refilled it. "Are you alright?" He asked quietly as he set in front of her.

"Yup". She answered as she took a sip. "One friend, and I use the term loosely, has had her head bashed in, while another friend is locked up for having done it while the third friend is completely losing her mind because the second friend is her girlfriend. Oh, and did I mention I have a friend who examined the broken and bloody body of the murdered friend?" She took another sip and swirled the whiskey in her glass thoughtfully. "I think that sums it up nicely, don't you?"

"You're a good friend, Han." Caleb replied with a quirk of his mouth.

Hanna couldn't help a laugh which was exactly what she needed. No matter what Caleb was always able to make her smile. She let her eyes play around the room. "It's quiet." She offered.

"Yeah." He agreed. "Murder really puts a damper on business." He said with a twist of his mouth.

Hanna looked up to the second floor. All the doors were shut tight, not a person moved about. "What's happened here?" She asked.

Before Caleb could answer a serving tray was dropped onto the bar with a clatter. "Another round, Caleb." Ian Thomas demanded.

Hanna turned to him and frowned at his rudeness. "We're talking here." She snapped at him.

"It's okay, Han." Caleb said. "I'll just be a minute." He moved off to refill drinks.

Ian Thomas let his eyes roam over her. "We're paying customers, Darlin'." He replied with a leer. "And from the looks of it this place could use all the customers it can get."

"It's nice to know you don't let a little thing like the vicious murder of a beautiful young woman get in the way of your good time." Hanna shot back.

Ian Thomas eyed her for a minute before his face softened. "Yes, terrible thing." He nodded. "I was very sad to hear the news of Alison's passing."

"I'll bet." Hanna muttered and turned back to her drink.

Caleb finished stacking the tray with fresh beer and whiskey. Ian Thomas left a bill on the bar and moved back to his card game. Hanna followed him with her eyes. Her eyes widened to see Ezra Fitzgerald and Doc Hastings. In Paige's usual seat was Carter Hackett, the hotel owner. Hanna bristled at their seeming indifference to what had happened here not even a day ago. Spencer's father, at least, should have shown some respect.

Hanna looked to the balcony as she heard a door close and caught a flash of movement. A woman covered modestly in a heavy robe and head bowed moved quickly down the hall and disappeared into a room.

"That's the first girl I've seen all day." He noted. "I wasn't even sure anyone was still up there."

"Really?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah." Caleb said sadly. "I think a lot of them left out of fear."

Hanna sighed. "I guess that's not a surprise."

"You know what was a surprise, though." Caleb began. "Marshal Fields was here a while ago with Paige."

"What?" Hanna asked. "What for?"

Caleb shrugged. "Not sure. Part of the investigation, I guess. They were in Alison's room for a few minutes."

Hanna chewed her lip. "Was Paige okay?"

"Hard to say." Caleb grimaced. "She looked a little rough when they went in and really rough when they came out."

"Have you been in there?" Hanna asked.

"Hell, no." Caleb answered.

Hanna was curious. She looked back up to the balcony and the door she knew to be Alison's in time to see a dark cloaked figure slip through the door into the room.

"Caleb." She hissed. "Did you see that?"

"What?" He asked and followed her eyes up the balcony.

"Someone just went into Ali's room." She jumped off the stool. "Come on."

They listened outside the door and heard a soft rustling and footsteps across the floor. Caleb looked to Hanna and held up three fingers. Hanna nodded in understanding. He counted them down and they threw open the door and stepped into the dimly lit room.

The figure, standing at the foot of the bed, whirled, the hood dropping back to reveal a shocked face.

"Mona?!" Hanna exclaimed.

"Ha...Hanna…" Mona breathed, a hand going to her chest. "...Oh, my God…you scared me…"

Hanna looked around the room seeing the wreckage and the blood, a hand going to her mouth and her eyes going wide in horror. She felt Caleb's arm go around her shoulders in support. "What are you doing here?"

Mona hesitated, a look of alarm crossing her face. "I...uh...I was...um…" She covered her face with her hands and began to cry.

Hanna and Caleb shared a confused glance before Hanna moved to Mona and slipped an arm around the young woman's waist. "Come on, Mona, let's go downstairs and talk."

Mona kept her face buried in her hands but nodded and let Hanna lead her out of the room. So focused she was on Mona, Hanna didn't notice the men at the card table watching them descend from the second floor with interest.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?" Hanna asked Mona gently after getting her settled at a table near the bar and getting a drink into her.

Mona plucked at the sleeve of her dress. "Did you know I used to work here?" She began.

Hanna nodded. "I know."

Mona nodded slowly. "I came out here a few years ago to Cheyenne without a pot to piss in. I had nothing…less than nothing. Ali found me huddled out back behind the hotel, picking through the trash trying not to starve to death."

Hanna listened, placing a hand on Mona's arm in support. She knew only some of Mona's story. She didn't need to know the rest. She was a hard worker and Hanna trusted her. "She took you in?" Hanna asked to let her know she was listening and to encourage her to go on.

Mona nodded. "She did." A small smiled crossed her lips. "She cleaned me up fed me and gave me a place to sleep. She offered me a place with her and I accepted. She saved my life."

"Why did you leave?" Hanna asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Mona laughed. "I got knocked up." She shrugged. "A hazard of the job, I guess. Ali offered to help. She had a tonic or something that caused…that took care of it. Some of the girls had needed it."

"You didn't want to?" Hanna prodded.

Mona let out a slow breath. "No, I wanted the baby. I was ready to get out of the life. I was afraid Ali would be angry. See it as a rejection and betrayal of her but she surprised me. She was supportive. She helped me, gave me some money to get set up, get me that room at the boarding house. She saved my life again."

Hanna was surprised at Ali's generosity. Alison never did anything for anyone unless there was something in it for her. Hanna wanted to get back to the question at hand. Why was Mona here. "Mona, what were you doing Ali's room? Do you know something about what happened to her? Who would do this to her?"

Mona looked at Hanna sharply. "The Marshal has Paige McCullers locked up for this." She replied.

"Yes." Hanna replied. "But Paige had no reason to hurt Alison and she could never do something like this." She cocked her head at Mona. "Do you know who would want to hurt Alison?"

Mona laughed. At first quietly to herself and then loudly and with enthusiasm. "Oh, Honey, where should I start?" She wiped tears from her face. "With the men she...entertained? With their wives? With the businesses that were into her for money?"

Hanna's eyes went wide at the last.

Mona saw Hanna's surprise. "You didn't know? Alison's bankrolled half of the new business in this town." Mona turned serious. "Alison did not get where she was by playing nice with people."

Hanna stared at the woman. Mona knew something. She was sure of it. "What were you doing in Ali's room?" She asked again.

A flash of fear crossed Mona's face. "I owe Alison everything. I just wanted something to remember her by." She answered cryptically. "I have to go." She rose and hurried from the saloon without backward glance.

* * *

**To the Guest who shared their very first review on this story, Thank you. I hope the story continues to entertain.**


	8. Chapter 8

Paige slept fitfully. Her dreams were filled with violence, confusion and fear. She was locked in a room. She banged and screamed for someone to hear her. First it was her father laughing at her, then Marshal Fields. Then a dark clothed figure whose face she couldn't see. They pushed her to the ground and laughed as she struggled. There were hands on her, rough at first then, soft and teasing but not Emily's hands, Alison's hands. Then she was alone while Emily and Alison embraced, whispering to each other and looking at her from across the room.

She tried to call out to Emily but she couldn't get enough air. She coughed and gagged around the words as Emily and Alison drifted farther away from her. She tried to run after them but her knee gave out and she crashed to the ground, gasping for breath.

Paige woke up on her hands and knees in her cell. It was dark but she knew the room was filled with smoke. She coughed and covered her mouth with her hands. She stood, her eyes, nose and mouth, immediately overcome with thick, black woodsmoke. She coughed violently, her eyes irritated and tearing as she dropped back low and crawled to the bars. She looked to the woodstove and saw a faint glow of embers that barely lit the black smoke billowing out of the grate. She heard nothing but the hiss of the waning fire. There must be a problem with the chimney.

"Hey…" She croaked. "...Hel...Hello!' She turned her head to the door to the office. She had no idea what time it was as there were no windows but she couldn't imagine the Marshal just leaving her here. "...can anyone...hear me?" Her voice sounded weak and gravelly to her own ears. "...I need some...help…"

She turned back into her cell thinking the door was too heavy and her voice to weak. She had to make more noise. She crawled along the floor, painfully, until she reached the opposite wall. Somewhere, above her was the tin cup and ewer. If She could find them she could bang on the bars. Someone would surely hear that.

She stood again and reeled as her head filled with smoke. There was no air at all anymore. She groped along the wall for a minute until she was too disoriented and dizzy. She couldn't find the shelf and she had to get low before she passed out.

Back across the cell to the bars and she tried yelling again. Her lungs and throat burned with the effort and she barely made a sound. She looked to the stove. Smoke still poured out. It was a big space and the Marshal had seemed careful to ensure there was plenty of wood so at least she wouldn't be cold. She would just have to try and wait it out until someone came or the wood burned itself out.

* * *

Emily rode, silently, in Spencer's carriage into town. Spencer had tried, unsuccessfully, to get Emily to wait a little longer. At least have some breakfast first. Emily wasn't hearing it. She got to see Paige today and she was ready to leave. Now.

Dawn was breaking as they rode up to the front of the Marshal's office. Emily hopped down, not waiting for Spencer and crashed through the door. Her father sat up with a grunt and blinked blearily at her. He had been sleeping on the cot in the old cell in the office, his boots still on.

Emily thought he looked older and weary, the lines around his eyes and mouth deepening. He scrubbed at his face. "Emily…." He rasped. "...what are you-"

"I'm here to see Paige. Like you said." She stood stiffly and and stared him down.

The Marshal's eyes glanced to Spencer and she shrugged helplessly. "I said the morning not…" He peered out the window. "...before dawn." He pushed himself off the cot and moved to the woodstove in the corner where there was always a pot of coffee on. He filled a cup and grimaced as the thick, bitter, brew coated his mouth. He held up the cup to Spencer and raised his eyes in question.

"No, thank you." She held up a hand to fend off the coffee. "I'll wait."

"Dad!" Emily snapped, anxiously. "Take me to her. Now." Emily could feel her blood heating at having to wait any longer.

Her father cringed as he took another sip and looked anywhere but his daughter. "Before you see her." He began and made a series of faces as if screwing up the courage to say his next words. "...you should know that while I was questioning her I mentioned to her your past relationship with Alison." There he said it.

Emily paled. "What relationship?" She breathed.

"I know you and Alison were careful and you didn't want anyone to know." He explained. "That's why I've never mentioned it. It was never my business." He looked to Spencer again. She stood, slack jawed. She either didn't know or was shocked to be hearing this conversation.

Emily blinked at her father in shock at what he had just said. He had known all along and he had told Paige. "Oh, My God, Dad!" She snapped. "Why would you do that?"

"Listen, Emily-" He started.

"Is that smoke!" Spencer yelled and pointed to the black tendrils curling under the door.

Emily ran for the door to the cells and pulled. It was locked. "Get it open!" She screamed. "Get it open, now!"

The Marshal grabbed his keys and fumbled with them as he tried to unlock the door. It was taking too long. He was absently aware of Spencer running outside shouting something about getting her kit as the key finally turned in the lock.

"Open the door!" Emily cried. They pulled the door open and thick smoke poured out of the cells into the office. "Paige!" Emily yelled and moved to head down the hall. She didn't even know where she was.

"Hold on, Baby!" Her father ordered and grabbed the lantern off his desk so they could see. They coughed and choked as they felt their way along the cells to the end. The Marshal held up the lantern and he could just make out Paige's body, face down, against the bars. They needed more air. He ran to the back door, unlocking it and throwing it open.

The cold morning air sucked the smoke from the room, clearing it from above their heads, making it possible to breathe.

"Paige!" Emily cried and grabbed at her through the bars. "Can you hear me?" She looked imploringly at her father. "Get her out! Help her!" She shouted through her tears.

He unlocked the cell door and dragged Paige into his arms. Her head dropped back, her eyes closed as he picked her up and hurried out to the office.

Spencer came back in the door. "Lay her down over there." She pointed to the cell and the cot the Marshal had been sleeping on. Spencer dropped to the ground next to Paige and felt the pulse at her neck. "Pulse is rapid." She said and bent to put her face near her mouth and nose. "She's not breathing."

Spencer tilted Paige's head back with a hand under her chin, pinched her nose and covered Paige's mouth with her own. She breathed for her, watching her chest rise and fall from the corner of her eye. She tuned everything else out. She was only vaguely aware of Emily and her father in the room.

After what seemed like hours but maybe had been a minute Paige coughed, smoke visibly expelling from her lungs. Spencer turned her on her side as she choked and gulped at the cleaner air.

Paige's eyes rolled open and her head swam with dizziness. "Em...Emily…" She said weakly.

"I'm here." Emily answered tearfully and dropped to the ground near her head, grasping her limp hand and smoothing the hair from her face. Paige's eyes closed again and her breathing was labored and ragged. "Spencer?" Emily asked with alarm.

"Hold on." Spencer removed her stethoscope and unbuttoned Paige's shirt, moving the diaphragm around her chest and listening intently. "Her lungs are congested. There's some mild fluid build up and she may not getting enough oxygen."

"Can we do anything?" Emily asked worriedly.

Spencer shook her head. "I'm afraid not. We can keep her comfortable and keep an eye on her in case she stops breathing again. Apart from that there's nothing. If the damage to her lungs is not too serious it will clear up on it's own."

"And if it is serious?' Emily asked shakily.

"Let's not think about that right now." Her father offered.

Emily whirled on her father. "I thought you were protecting her!" She raged at him. "How could this happen!"

Her father shook his head, his jaw clenched in anger. "I don't know." He said tightly. "But I'm damn sure going to find out."

The words were barely out of this mouth when his deputies barreled in through the front door. "What's going on?" Andrew asked as he took in the scene before him.

"We saw smoke." Sean added.

Marshal Fields jabbed a finger at them. "You two, get up the the roof and check out the chimney. It's blocked and I want to know with what and how. Now!" He barked.

They hustled through the hallway and out the back door.

Paige coughed wetly but didn't regain consciousness again. "How is she?" The Marshal asked.

Spencer shook her head. "Hard to say." She pried up Paige's eyelids and checked the reactivity of her pupils. "She's breathing on her own, her brain function looks okay and her heart rate is getting stronger which tells me her oxygen levels may be returning to normal. We'll just have to wait and see."

Marshal Fields eyed his daughter. "Emily, you need to go home." He ordered.

Emily turned her eyes from Paige and stared at her father in shock. "I'm not going anywhere." She replied firmly.

Her father took a deep breath. He didn't know what was going on but he feared what had happened last night was no accident. He thought Paige would be safe here. The killer may be on to them and was working on tying up loose ends. Perhaps, he thought Paige remembered something.

Emily wasn't safe here and he wasn't ready to tell her about his suspicions. "Emily, I'm not having this argument with you again. I am the Marshal, this is my office and she…" He pointed to Paige. "...is a prisoner here. She is allowed visitors at my discretion"

"And who was injured while in your custody." Emily shot back. "I'm staying."

Marshal Fields locked eyes with Spencer and gave her a 'say something' expression.

Spencer listened to Paige's breathing again. It did, actually, sound like her lungs were clearing. The fluid being reabsorbed. Spencer was hopeful she was going to be fine and said as much. "Emily, there is nothing you can do for her right now-" She began,

"I can be here." Emily shot back. "She shouldn't be alone."

Her father saw his chance and went for it. "She won't be." He said. "Spencer is going to stay with her and keep an eye on her. You are going to go. I'm not asking, Emily."

Emily dropped her head, tears spilling onto Paige's chest. "I hate you for this." She breathed.

Despite his pain at his daughter's words he was careful not to react. Her safety was everything. He would explain everything when it was safe for her. He reached to help her to her feet.

Emily recoiled at her father's touch and surged to her feet, knocking his hand away. Her eyes flashed with a fury she felt might break her in two. She knew Paige was in the best hands but she should be here. There were so many things she needed to tell her.

"Spencer…" She choked out. "...tell her I was here. Tell her...I…" She trailed off unable to finish or hold back her tears.

Spencer gripped Emily's hand. "I'll tell her." She said softly.

Emily looked back at Paige again before rushing out of the office in tears.

Marshal Fields looked at Spencer and sighed deeply. "Do you have something to say?" He asked grimly.

"This must be really hard for you." She replied sympathetically.

He scrubbed at his face with his hands and turned back to find his cup, refilling his coffee. "Seeing your child hurting...it's...hard doesn't really begin to describe it." It paused to sip his coffee. "But I'd rather have her be alive and hate me right now then let anything happen to her."

Spencer nodded. "She'll understand, in time."

Marshal Fields shrugged sadly. "Maybe." He cleared his throat and straightened. "I went to see your father yesterday, to pay my respects and follow up with his exam."

"And?" Spencer straightened from the floor.

"And there is no blood or tissue under Alison's fingernails." He said.

Spencer looked down to Paige, the scratches across her neck standing out against her pale skin. She sighed. "Do we need anymore proof that Paige didn't kill Alison? That she was set up for this?"

Marshal Fields sighed. "No. What we need is to find the real-"

"Got it!" His Deputies burst back in through the door holding a large, blackened and very dead opossum by the tail, it's lips pulled back and frozen in a snarl showing sharp teeth. "Looks like its neck is broke." Andrew said shaking it to show its head wobbling unnaturally.

"Must have crawled in to get out of the cold and snapped it." Sean added.

Marshal Fields frowned and his eyes flicked to Spencer who stared, curiously, her head cocked to the side. "Alright." He cleared a spot on his desk and looked for a rag. He laid it down on his desk. "Leave it there. Go start your patrols." He instructed.

His Deputies looked oddly at him, no doubt wondering why he wasn't asking them to get rid of it. They had the good sense not to ask and did as he told them.

After they were gone the Marshal looked at Spencer. "Freak accident or sabotage?" He asked not really expecting an answer.

Spencer shrugged. "I can take a look?" She offered.

He eyed her. "For what?"

"I can tell you, with a relative degree of certainty, if it was dead or alive when it went into the chimney." She explained.

"You can do that?" He asked surprised.

"Sure." She shrugged again. "If there is evidence of smoke inhalation we know it was still breathing when it went in...so, most likely accident. If not, it was killed and stuffed in there…." She trailed off. They both knew what that meant.

"What do you need?" He asked.

"I have everything I need with me. I just need somewhere to work." She said.

Marshal Fields considered this. "You can use an empty cell in the back." He turned his eyes to Paige. He couldn't leave her out front. She was too exposed with people in and out of his office all the time. "Is she okay to move?"

Spencer moved back to her and checked her over again. Though still unconscious she seemed to be improving. Her breathing was relaxed and her heartbeat normal. "Yes."

Marshal Fields lifted her effortlessly and motioned for Spencer, having collected her kit and tucked the wrapped animal under her arm, to get the door. The cells were clear of smoke but the space was cold. The Marshal laid Paige back on her bunk and arranged her arms comfortably across her stomach before covering her with the blanket. "I'm closing her door but I'll leave it unlocked in case you need to get in there." He waved to the cell across the aisle. "You can work over there if it suits you."

He threw wood on the fire, bringing it back to life, and ensured it was drawing properly before leaving.

* * *

**Thank you for the review, Sazar! I'm glad you are still enjoying the series. Here is the secret of the rapid posts (Shh...don't tell anyone). I already have to story written before I publish. Continuity of the details is important to me and if I publish too early and something doesn't make sense later...well, you can see where I'm going with that. So, once the story is done all I have to so is a final proofread and then Bam! A chapter goes up. I could post the whole thing right now but...where's the suspense in that?**


	9. Chapter 9

Hanna arranged the new dresses she had finished this week on a rack in the front of the store to showcase them. She was particularly proud of this lot and suspected and hoped they would go fast. She had a few more yet to display but was out of rack space.

"Mona." She called to the woman in the back room. They hadn't spoken at all about last night and Hanna didn't want to push her. She wanted to talk to Spencer and Emily about it before she said anything else. If they were going to to prove that Paige didn't kill Alison it would help if they could redirect the investigation to someone who may have actually had a motive. Mona had given her a lot to think about. "Do you know if we have another rack in storage up in the attic?"

A long pause followed. "Um...maybe? Why?" Mona poked her head out of the back room.

Hanna frowned at her display. Everything was too bunched together and not hanging properly. "I need more space." She said and laid the remaining dresses over the counter. "I'm going to go take-"

"That's okay!" Mona blurted. "I can go." And looked at Hanna wide eyed.

"No, really, it's a mess up there. I'll go…." She trailed off and turned as a middle aged woman out the front window caught her eye. She wore a heavy, dark green, wool cloak and as she stepped, and the cloak parted in front, Hanna could just make out a familiar burgundy and black dress.'

Hanna frowned and hurried out the front door into the cold. "Excuse me!" Hanna called after her, hugging her arms across her chest against the cold. "Ma'am, excuse me." She called again as she caught up with the woman, who she thought she recognized as Mrs. Hackett the hotel owner's wife, and placed a hand on her arm to slow her. "Where did you get that dress?" She asked as she looked at it closely and confirmed it was hers.

The woman scowled at Hanna. "Young Woman!" She said sharply. "Please, unhand me this instant."

Hanna jerked her hand back. "I'm sorry...I just….where did you get that dress?" She asked again.

The older woman huffed. "I don't see how it's any business of yours but, if you must know, It was a gift from my husband." She turned and stalked off down the street.

"Wait!" Hanna shouted and moved to go after her until she saw Emily hurrying down the street toward her, visibly upset.

"Emily?" She said as she caught her friend up in her arms. "What's wrong?"

* * *

Spencer washed her hands and wrapped the animal back up. She was certain. Its neck had been broken prior to it going into the chimney. The accident was no accident but a deliberate act of sabotage. She sat on the cot running the possibilities through her mind. She needed to talk to the Marshal.

Paige coughed wetly and groaned snapping Spencer out of her musings. She rose and crossed the hall letting herself into Paige's cell. Spencer wet a cloth with cool water and wiped at the pink froth at Paige's lips. It had been hours but she was still coughing up a small amount of fluid as her lungs cleared.

Her eyelids fluttered and Spencer ran the damp cloth across her brow to stimulate her. She really needed her awake to get a better idea of how she was doing. "Paige?" She called. "Open your eyes. It's time to wake up."

Paige's head rolled toward the sound of her voice. "...Spencer…" She rasped.

Spencer allowed herself a small smile. "That's it, come on back." She encouraged.

Paige's eye cracked open and focused on her friend. "...thirsty…" She managed.

Spencer filled the cup with water and lifted Paige's head gently, holding it her lips. Paige swallowed a few times and coughed, water dripping down her chin. "Easy." Spencer soothed. "Is that better?"

Paige nodded her thanks and dropped her head back onto the cot with a sigh. "What...happened…" She croaked and placed a hand to her chest. "...my chest…"

"I know." Spencer moved her hands behind Paige's shoulders and supported her. "Try sitting up. It will help you breathe easier."

Paige moved partially upright,her back against the wall, with Spencer's help. She was able to take fuller, less painful breaths. "Thanks." She said as she reached for the water again.

Spencer wrapped her hands around it and made sure she was steady before letting her go on her own. The door to the office opened and Spencer jumped up to see Marshal Fields heading their way, a plate of food from the Rosewood in his hand.

He stopped in the doorway to Paige's cell and smiled when he saw her sitting up. Paige's eyes narrowed at him and she struggled up straighter with a cough. "What do you want?" She wheezed.

His smile faltered. "I need to speak with Spencer." He answered.

Spencer looked between them and sighed, shaking her head. "Enough." She said. "We're never going to figure this out unless we work together." She stated firmly.

Paige looked confused. "I don't understand."

Spencer looked hard at Marshal Fields and waited. He needed to agree before she said anything more.

He sighed deeply and stepped into the cell setting the plate of food at the end of the cot. "Paige, we know you didn't kill Alison."

She blinked at him and looked to Spencer who nodded in agreement.

"We can prove it. We thought you would be safer here. Under my protection. We couldn't tell you or anyone because we didn't want to tip off the real killer that we were looking for him. We didn't want to put you or anyone else in more danger." The Marshal explained.

"And the little trip to Alison's room? The interrogation?" She ground out. "That was just for fun?"

The Marshal frowned, sadly. "I'm sorry. I needed to know for sure."

Paige didn't know whether to be relieved or furious. She was still so confused. "Emily?" She asked finally.

The Marshal shook his head. "We haven't told her anything. I'm trying to protect her from knowing too much and making her a target."

Paige blinked at him and looked to Spencer her breathing becoming labored. "She still thinks I did this?" Paige tried to push herself up. "She thinks I killed-"

"No!" Spencer cut her off and placed a hand on her shoulders, pressing her back down to the cot. "No, Paige, she never thought that. She's believed in you from the beginning." Spencer insisted.

Paige sighed and took a gulping breath. "She never came…."

Marshal Fields puffed out his cheeks and blew out a stream of air. This was all on him. "I wouldn't let her." He said simply. "I thought being close to you would put her in danger."

Spencer gritted her teeth and sucked in a breath. "Turns out you may have been right."

* * *

Emily and Hanna sat in the hotel dining room. They weren't going to be able to talk openly in the shop with Mona around and Hanna wanted to find out why in the hell the hotel owner's wife was wearing the dress she sold to Cece Drake. That and Emily really looked like she needed a cup of coffee, or maybe something stronger.

Hanna ducked back into the shop to get her coat and Mona was already setting up an additional rack for the display. She must have gone to that attic while she was outside. She let Mona know where she was going to be and to come find her if she had any problems.

Emily sat across from Hanna, wide eyed at Hanna's retelling of last night, clutching her cup of coffee. "What was she looking for?"

Hanna shrugged. "I don't know. She never really answered me. But the room was a disaster so, I don't think she's the only one looking for something in there."

Emily chewed her lip. "Maybe she was looking for it a second time." She said.

Hanna narrowed her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"You don't think Mona could have anything to do with what happened to Alison, do you?" Emily asked hesitantly.

Hanna's eyes widened in surprise but she didn't answer right away, seeming to consider the idea. "No…" She pursed her lips. "I don't think so. The way she spoke about her last night I don't see how. But I think she might know something." She finished.

"We should talk to her again." Emily said. "Find out what she knows" Her conversation with Hanna had actually helped take her mind off her worry for Paige and her anger at her father. She was grateful for something to do and to feel like she could help and she was anxious to get started.

Hanna looked passed Emily to the hotel's reception desk, her eyes flashing. "There she is." She whispered.

"Who?" Emily turned, startled.

"The woman in my dress." Hanna answered, her eyes never leaving her quarry as she rose from the table.

"Mrs. Hackett?" Emily was confused. "What dress?" She looked hard at the dress the older woman was wearing, her eyes widening in recognition. "Hey, isn't that the dress-"

"Yes." Hanna nodded. "It is." She beelined straight to the woman, sitting at the reception desk, and waited to be noticed.

Mrs. Hackett raised her head from her work when she noticed their presence. "Yes?" She said sweetly already having forgotten their earlier encounter. "May I help you?"

Hanna breathed deep and reined in her anger. "That dress doesn't belong to you." Hanna said sharply.

Mrs. Hackett gasped and narrowed her eyes at the accusation. "Young Woman." She snapped back. "I don't know who you think you are but I can assure you this is my dress."

"Look, Lady." Hanna shot at her all plans of trying to contain herself forgotten. "I made that dress and I sold it to a friend of mine not three days ago and I can assure you she looked far better in it than you."

The older woman paled and her eyes flicked from Hanna to Emily briefly before she schooled her expression again and straightened. "I've had quite enough of this harassment." She raised her voice. "Please, leave before I call for the Marshal and have you forcibly removed." She threatened.

Emily's mouth quirked into a smile. "Mrs. Hackett, I'm Emily Fields, the Marshal's daughter." She paused and watched in satisfaction as the woman's eyes widened in recognition and fear. "I would be happy to call my father down here to sort this out but he's a very busy man and I don't imagine he would be pleased." She waited a beat. "Or, you could talk to us and tell us what we want to know. It's a simple question. Where did you get the dress?" She asked and cocked an eyebrow at her.

Hanna crossed her arms and smiled smugly as the older woman squirmed in her chair.

Mrs. Hackett sighed nervously and licked her lips. "The woman in room 9 checked out yesterday. The girls went to clean up the room and she had left it behind."

Hanna and Emily frowned at each other. "Why would she do that?" Hanna asked.

"How should I know?" Mrs. Hackett shot back. "It looked like she left in a hurry."

"Who checked her out?" Emily asked. "Did she say where she was going?"

Mrs. Hackett shrugged. "No one saw her. The room key and payment were left at the desk."

"Maybe she's staying with her friend?" Hanna offered to no one in particular.

"I wouldn't know." Mrs. Hackett shrugged. "Now, if you'll excuse me." She turned back to her ledger dismissing the girls.

Hanna bristled. She was feeling hurt that Cece would just abandon such a finely made dress, discarding all her hard work. "Did she leave anything else behind?"

Mrs. Hackett dropped her pen and sighed. "Wait here." She rose and disappeared into a back room. When she returned she had a small knit purse, worn and frayed at the edges. "It was just waiting until someone got around to throwing it out." She said.

"That's everything?" Emily asked, suspiciously, taking the purse from her.

Mrs. Hackett hedged. "There may have been some other things but….they were left so they've been...redistributed." She finished, guilty.

Emily frowned. It would be near impossible to round it all up now but she wasn't willing to let this woman have the last word. "I suggest you make an effort to locate Miss Drake's belongings. If she comes back for them and they're gone she'll have a strong case for theft and I'll see that my father looks into it on her behalf."

Mrs. Hackett nodded tightly and Hanna grinned like a fool before Emily gripped her by the arm and dragged her off.

Hanna laughed as they made their way back to the table. "Emily, that was fabulous. Oh, My God, her face was….talk about the cat that ate the canary…" She stopped laughing and frowned as she dropped into her chair. "Do you think I can get my dress back?"

Emily ignored Hanna as she opened the purse. It was empty but she frowned and turned it over in her hands. She could hear paper crinkling and feel a slight resistance when she manipulated the fabric. She opened it again and examined the inside to see the lining had been torn and oversewn. She picked at the threads, loosening them. Sewn into the lining was a folded piece of worn paper, a photo in it, creased and faded. Emily frowned and held the photo up to her face. It was grainy and wrinkled, difficult to make out the figures. It was of two girls, for sure, one of them looked to be a younger Cece Drake. Emily gasped and squinted hard at the black and white image.

"What is it?" Hanna asked curiously and reached for the photo taking it out of Emily's hand. She, too, studied the image or the two girls. "Is that Ali?" She blurted.

Emily unfolded the piece of paper and read the note. _You owe me - A._


	10. Chapter 10

"We need to take this to your father!" Hanna blurted and started to gather her things to leave.

"Wait." Emily placed a hand on her arm, chewing on her lip in concentration. "If Cece Drake was here to see Alison why didn't she say anything to us at the Rosewood when we asked?" Emily frowned hard. "Was she trying to keep it a secret? And why check out under the cover of darkness right after Alison was murdered unless she has something to hide?"

"Like I said, Em." Hanna replied. "We need to go talk to you father."

Emily shook her head. She was in no rush to see her father again. He probably would think them silly and desperate. According to him he already had Alison's killer and Emily doubted he would listen to anything she said. "Where could she have gone? There's no train leaving Cheyenne until…" She trailed off and checked her mental calendar.

"Today!" Hanna exclaimed and checked the clock in the hotel lobby. "There's a train today leaving in a few hours. We need to get your father-"

"No!" Emily cut her off. "We need to go to the station and find Cece Drake and find out what the hell is going on." She said firmly. "Then we'll talk to my father."

Hanna frowned. "Emily, I don't think that's a good idea. Alison was murdered and Cece Drake has left secretly and in a hurry. What if she was the one who killed-"

"I'm going." Emily said ignoring her argument. She was going to figure this out with or without Hanna's help. She knew Paige had nothing to do with Alison's death. Now, she just needed to find out who did. She dropped some coins on the table and grabbed her coat.

"Wait, Em." Hanna wrestled into her coat. "I'm coming, too." She hurried after her.

* * *

"What are you saying?" Paige shook her head in confusion as she chewed for a long time. She gritted her teeth and swallowed painfully. Spencer had refused to answer her questions until she ate something.

Paige had agreed, she couldn't remember when she had eaten last and now, knowing that they were on her side, her spirit and had been renewed and she needed to keep up her strength, mental and physical, if she were going to help get to the bottom of this.

"The chimney was blocked up intentionally, Paige." Spencer answered. "Someone tried to kill you." She said plainly.

Paige blinked, the fork halfway to her mouth. "Why?"

"To keep from telling anyone what you know." Marshal Fields answered.

Paige considered this as she worked through another bite. "But I don't know anything." She said after swallowing.

"I bet you do, Paige." Spencer eyed her thoughtfully. "You just can't remember."

"Let's start there." The Marshal said. "Why can't Paige remember anything? What could cause this type of blackout?"

Spencer blew air slowly through her lips. "A few things, I guess. A head injury could cause amnesia." She looked at Paige. "But we can rule that out, right?"

Paige shrugged. "I'm fine." She coughed. "Well, I haven't been hit in the head." She amended.

"Excessive alcohol consumption." Spencer raised her eyebrows at her.

Paige shook her head. "No. I didn't." She couldn't remember but she was certain she didn't have that much to drink. She would never put Emily through that again. Not after everything they'd been through.

"Caleb agrees." The Marshal added. "He didn't serve you. So what does that leave?"

"Drugs." Spencer shrugged. "Laudanum, most likely. It's liquid and would probably be easy enough to slip in your drink and mixing it with alcohol could compound the effects. It's the only thing that would explain your memory loss, weakness and disorientation when you woke up"

Paige pushed the plate of food away and dropped her head back against the wall with a growl of frustration. "Why can't I remember?"

"Maybe you can." Spencer said and chewed her lip. "Maybe we just need to trigger something that will help get you back there."

Paige raised her head, hopefully. "How?"

Spencer turned to the Marshal. "We need to take Paige back to the Rosewood and walk her through her night."

The Marshall frowned. "We can't just waltz a murderer through a saloon full of people." He replied.

Paige bristled. "I didn't kill-"

He held up a hand. "I know that but everyone thinks you did and we need them to keep thinking that while we figure this out."

"Why don't we ask Caleb to close down early tonight?" She looked between them. "There must be more investigating that needs to happen."

Marshal Fields was silent for a long time as he considered this. He did need to get back into Alison's room and see if anything was missing, find a murder weapon and figure out what the killer might have been looking for. It could work. "I'll go talk to Caleb."

"Great!" Spencer rose. "I'll go back to the clinic. My father keeps careful records of patients he prescribes medication to. I may be able to find out who has picked up Laudanum recently."

Paige watched as Spencer and Marshal Fields exited her cell. "What about me?" She pushed herself to her feet and hobbled to the door.

The Marshal gave her a half smile as he closed and locked her cell. "I'm afraid this is it for now, Paige."

Paige gripped the bars, her anger and frustration bubbling to the surface again and now she didn't even have anyone to direct it at. "How long do I have to stay locked up?" She growled.

The Marshal looked at her sympathetically and wrapped his hand around hers. "I'm sorry. I know this is hard but I think this is the safest place for you." He said.

"Safe." Paige laughed bitterly.

The Marshal frowned. "I'll make sure there is someone here at all times. If you need anything just yell. We'll hear you."

Paige sighed, nodding. "Right."

"Paige, you need to eat and rest." Spencer said. "If this is going to work at all you need to be strong and clear headed."

Paige nodded again. "Okay." She moved back to her bunk and picked up the plate of food. She would do everything she could to help and if that meant sitting here and eating a plate full of cold potatoes and beans, so be it.

* * *

Spencer flipped through the log again for the last few weeks detailing everyone who had been through the clinic, what they had been treated for, how they had been treated, what they had been prescribed and what, if any, follow up had been required. Lucas Gottesman's ingrown toenail, Mrs. Hackett's hot flashes, Mr. Hackett's impotency, Ezra Fitzgerald's heartburn, Ian Thomas's sciatica, Deputies Campbell and Ackard's food poisoning, Holden Strauss's lacerated hand and pretty much everyone else in town.

Spencer rubbed at her blurring eyes and massaged her temples. This wasn't helping at all. Virtually everyone had been prescribed Laudanum. It was used for almost everything. If you didn't have some yourself you, surely, knew someone who did. She wasn't going to narrow the list of suspects this way.

Spencer needed to stretch her legs and walked back through the clinic. Considering, from the log, how busy her father had been lately she was surprised there was no one here now. Not even her father and she idly wondered where he was.

She crossed through the exam room. Alison's body had been moved earlier that day to the Undertaker's to get ready for burial. She wasn't sure when her funeral would be. She knew Alison had family back east and wondered if they had been telegrammed of her death. Because it was winter and the body could be stored for longer they might actually be able to wait for her kin to come out if they were inclined to. She made a mental note to ask the Marshal if he knew anything about what the plans were for her.

She had walked through the recovery room and through the quarantine room all the way to the other side of the clinic and the back door. She stopped and stretched, her mind drifting to Paige. She must be going out of her mind. Unable to talk to anyone, help in her own defense or even move around beyond pacing her cell. Not to mention her anxiety over not having seen Emily for two days.

Spencer had an idea. She moved back through the clinic and up the stairs to their residence. She wanted to check on Paige and needed more than she usually carried around in her medical kit.

* * *

"Emily." Hanna whined hugging her arms across her chest and stamping her feet in the cold. "We've been out here for hours."

Emily blew out a frustrated breath. And looked up and down the platform. They had gotten to the station early and waited and watched as folks boarded the train looking for any sign of Cece Drake. It was cold and frustrating as people were bundled against the chill and they had received more than their share of dirty looks and they stopped women across the platform to peer at them under hats and scarves.

Emily checked the station clock. They still had some time before the train pulled out. "Maybe she got on early, maybe we missed her."

Hanna didn't like where this was going. "Emily, we tried." She tugged on Emily's arm. "We should go to the Marshal's office."

"Not yet." Emily eyed the Station Master. He was bent in conversation with the conductor and not paying any attention to the boarding. No one would care if she jumped on the train for a few minutes and looked around. It didn't matter that she didn't have a ticket. She wasn't going anywhere.

"Emily, no." Hanna pleaded as Emily made her way to the steps of the first car. She would start at the front and work her way back.

"Wait here." Emily said as she hopped up the steps and Hanna watched, annoyed and worried, from the platform.

* * *

Paige scraped the plate clean with her spoon and choked down the last mouth full of cold beans. She set the plate next to her on the cot and stared at it. She moved it to the floor of her cell and pushed herself to her feet, pacing as well as she could within the eight foot long cell. Her knee throbbed and her lungs burned as she felt her heart race with anxiety and frustration of being locked up and not being able to remember what happened.

She dropped back onto the cot and picked the plate up again, setting it next to her. She ran her hands through her hair, greasy and reeking of smoke. Her skin felt like it was too tight, and her blood too hot. She stood again and stalked to the bars of the cell, looking toward the door to the office. She thought of calling out for someone, anyone, but if it wasn't Marshal Fields or Spencer she wouldn't be able to say anything. As far as the deputies were concerned she was a murderer and her discomfort would probably delight them.

She gripped the bars and bent her forehead to the cool iron and closed her eyes. She concentrated on her breathing, slowing it down. She tried to clear her mind but all she could think about was Emily, the look on her face when her father showed up to take her away. The look of fear and uncertainty on her face that said, even if just for a moment, that she thought Paige capable of doing something so unspeakable.

Spencer said Emily believed in her but until she heard it from Emily herself she couldn't relax. She tried to push thoughts of Emily out of her mind and think back to the night at the Rosewood. She had met everyone at supper, like they had many times before. She pictured her friends and the saloon in her mind, trying to recall that night. Nothing.

Paige howled in frustration, spinning from the bars and grabbing at the plate, hurling it across the room a short distance so it crashed into the wall, crumpling the tin with a loud clang. She dropped back onto the cot, flopping onto her back and covering her face in her hands, breathing heavily. She had to calm herself. Getting worked up would not help her health or her memory. She needed to do better.

She let her mind drift to Emily again. She began with the last thing she did remember about that day. Waking up in bed with Emily's hands on her. Tickling and teasing her sweetly until she awoke. Loving her all morning with her hands, her mouth and her body.

Paige let out a slow breath and felt her body start to relax at the memory of their lovemaking. Paige knew Emily's body so well, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips, the hollow of her throat. She could feel her hands at her waist, dipping into the small of her back where sweat pooled. Paige breathed deep and could see Emily's head thrown back in ecstasy, her hips swirling with desire.

Paige exhaled slowly and lay still, letting the images and memories of the morning wash over her. Her heart thudded against her ribs but, now, not from stress but from the recollection of her own longing. God, she missed her. It had only been a couple of days but it felt like weeks, months, since they'd been together and she was so tired. Paige pictured Emily's smile, the one she reserved just for her. She focused on that and, within minutes, she was asleep.

* * *

**Thank you for the recent reviews and no, I never get tired of hearing folks enjoy my stories or my storytelling.**


	11. Chapter 11

Emily walked the length of the train again. She was agitated and running out of time. They had heard the conductor call for final boarding a few minutes ago. She had to get off the train but she had still not found Cece Drake. She didn't understand how she could not be here. Emily had even knocked on each of the private sleeping cars pretending she was lost. Nothing.

As she walked back through coach she could see Hanna through the window pacing up and down the platform looking more and more anxious. Emily refocused on the faces in front of her, scanning them again. If Cece was trying to sneak out of town maybe she had affected a disguise. The train whistle blew and Emily could feel the vibrations through the floor as the engine roared to life and the train prepared to pull out.

Emily hurried down the aisle to the back of the car, scanning faces quickly one last time. She swung down the steps and leapt to the platform just as the train started to move.

"Jesus, Emily!" Hanna scolded her. "Cutting it a little close."

"I know." Emily said with a frustrated sigh as she watched the train pull away. "I don't understand where she is."

Hanna tugged at her arm. "Let's let your father worry about it. I'm freezing."

Emily looked around the now empty platform until her eyes came to rest at the ticket agent's booth. "Hold on." She said and moved in that direction. "I just need to check something out." She reached into her coat pocket for the photo of Alison and Cece.

"Emily, seriously?" Hanna called to her back and hustled to catch up to her.

Emily knocked on the glass window of the booth. "Excuse me?" She said to the man in the window.

He looked up at her, startled. "May I help you?"

"I hope so." She gave him her most charming smile and slip the picture under the glass to him. "I was wondering if you could tell me if you recognize that woman. The one on the left."

The man held the photo up to his nose and squinted at it. "Isn't that Alison DiLaurentis?" He asked, eyes going wide. "Terrible what happened. Just terrible-"

"Yes, it is." Emily cut him off. "Do you recognize the woman she's with? Did you sell her a ticket for that train." Emily gestured down the tracks to the train that was long out of sight.

The man held the photo up the his face again. "Don't think so. She don't look familiar...except…" He mumbled.

"Except what?" Emily asked excitedly.

"What?" The man looked at her. "Oh, I was just thinking they looked like they could be sisters is all." He finished and slid the photo back under the glass. "Sorry, can't help you." He added.

Emily sighed. "Thank you for your time." She tucked the photo back into her pocket.

"Emily, can we please go now?" Hanna begged.

"You can go if you want." Emily answered, her mind already working on the other ways Cece Drake may have gotten out of town. She intended to investigate them all. "I have a few more people to talk to." She headed out of the train station.

Hanna rolled her eyes up to the darkening sky and let out a noisy, exasperated breath. Emily was determined and she wasn't going to let her go alone. She raced after her on numbingly cold feet.

* * *

Spencer shouldered the bag she carried up higher and pushed her way into the Marshal's office. He was pouring himself a cup of coffee from the, seemingly, bottomless pot when she walked in.

"Any luck?" He asked, referring to her study of her father's log.

She shook her head with a sigh. "No. Nothing helpful at all unless you think knowing Carter Hackett can't get an erection is meaningful"

The Marshal choked, spitting out his coffee and cleared his throat in shock and embarrassment.

"Sorry. Nevermind." Spencer blushed. "Did you speak with Caleb?" She asked moving on

"He's going to have everyone cleared out after supper." He answered and blew on his cup.

"What did you tell him?" She asked.

He shrugged. "That I need some time in the saloon and Alison's room to better piece together what happened."

"We're going to have to tell him the truth." She said and eyed him. "He's going to know something is going on when we bring Paige over there. That is, if he doesn't already. He wouldn't believe Paige did this anymore than the rest of us."

"I know." The Marshal nodded. "We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it."

Spencer nodded. "In the meantime. Can you let me back to see Paige?" Her eyes flicked to the large pot of hot water on the woodstove from which he made his coffee. "And let me have your hot water?"

The Marshal eyed her, seeing the satchel over her shoulder, and suspected he knew what was in it. "Yeah, I can do that."

Paige woke with a start at the sound of her cell being unlocked. She hadn't heard anyone come in and she sat up, staring blearily at Spencer and the retreating back of Marshal Fields as he left the two of them.

"Spencer…" She said groggily. "...what's going on?"

Spencer stepped into her cell and set the pot of steaming water at the end of her cot. "I thought maybe you'd like to get cleaned up." She said with a small smile. She unpacked her bag stacking a towel, soap, a hair brush and clean clothes next to the pot of water. "I'm sorry, I know it's not much but-"

"No." Paige's eyes lit up. "No, it's great. Thank you." She said gratefully.

"Okay." Spencer stepped back. "I'll be back in a bit. I want to check you out again before we head to the Rosewood."

Paige nodded, already working on stripping out of her soiled clothes.

When Spencer returned to the office the Marshal was bent low in concentration over his desk studying a stack of papers. "What's that?" She asked.

"What?" He looked up at her, eyes unfocused for a moment. "Oh, it's the report from the Doc on his examination of Alison's body."

Spencer's eyes widened. "May I see?" She asked, hesitantly.

The Marshal narrowed his eyes at her. "Are you sure?"

She considered for a moment. "Yes." She nodded firmly.

"Good." He restacked the papers and handed them to her. "Because I could use another pair of eyes."

She flipped through the pages. Her father had been thorough. His external examination was complete with sketches of Alison's body, everything from the oldest scar and blemish to graphic descriptions of every injury.

Her injuries were confined to her face and head, as if her assailant didn't just want to kill her but to obliterate her. Spencer shuddered inwardly as she couldn't help but recall the image of her friend's broken body.

"We need to find the murder weapon." The Marshal said, snapping her out of her trance.

Spencer chewed her lip in thought. "It has to be something strong and heavy." She offered. "Probably metal as my father makes no mention of any wood debris in the wounds."

"What about something like a rock or a brick?" He suggested.

"Maybe." She thought. "But I don't think the edges of these wounds are jagged enough for that. I would guess something rounded like a hammer maybe."

"That helps." He nodded. He sat back in his chair and sipped his coffee. "Have you seen Emily since this morning?" He asked, hesitantly.

Spencer looked at him. "No." She admitted. She had thought, more than once today, that she should track down her friend and see how she was and let her know Paige was alright but she found she just kept getting caught up in trying to solve this mystery and time just got away from her. "I assume she went home." She said a little guiltily. "I'll take a ride out there later and check on her."

* * *

"Okay, thank you." Emily turned away from the stagecoach agent. Her shoulders slumped in defeat. He hadn't seen Cece Drake. She hadn't left town by stage. They had been to the farrier in town who also kept a stable of horses for sale and rent. He hadn't seen her and made a offensive display of insisting he would have remembered if he has sold a horse to a woman looking like Cece.

They had been back to the hotel, keeping careful to stay out of sight of Mrs. Hackett and spoken to a number of girls who cleaned the rooms. No, they hadn't seen her since the night of Aria's last performance. No, they didn't know when she had checked out or where she went. No, they didn't know if she knew anyone else in town.

Hanna looked hard at Emily. She knew she was discouraged. She knew she was doing all this the help Paige and prove to her father that someone else killed Alison. It was getting dark and well past supper hour. Hanna's stomach grumbled loudly. She was cold and totally wiped out and knew Emily must be feeling the same.

"Em." She said and placed a hand on her friend's arm. "We've done everything we can with this. It's time to go to your father." She said gently.

Emily nodded, dispirited.

* * *

Spencer smiled when she saw Paige brushing out her damp hair. She looked better, some color returned to her, her spirit less defeated. "How do you feel?" Spencer asked.

"Better." Paige gave her a small smile and tucked in the tail of Spencer's old work shirt into canvas pants. They were worn but clean and fit her well enough. "It's amazing how much better being clean can make you feel."

"Hmm. Sit down" Spencer nodded to the cot. "Let me take a look at you."

Paige eased herself down onto the cot and sat straight as Spencer snapped her stethoscope in her ears and slid the chestpiece under Paige's shirt against her skin. "Deep breaths." She instructed.

Paige breathed deeply and slowly as Spencer moved the instrument around her chest, listening intently. "Any discomfort?" She asked.

Paige exhaled. "My chest feels a little tight. Like I've been in a smoky barroom all night."

Spencer pulled the instrument from her ears. "Your lungs sound good. All the fluid has been reabsorbed."

Paige nodded and moved to rise. "Great."

Spencer held her back. "Not so fast." She moved to kneel in front of Paige. "I want to take a look at your knee."

"Spencer, I'm fine." Paige protested.

Spencer frowned hard at her as she worked her pant leg up over her knee. "You're not fine." She prodded the swollen tissue around her kneecap. "You've been walking around without help for days." Spencer wrapped her hand around the back of Paige's knee and pressed against the bone with her thumb.

Paige hissed in pain as Spencer extended and flexed her leg repeatedly. "Okay! Okay!" Paige gasped. "That's good, thanks." Paige pried Spencer's hands off her.

Spencer sat back on her heels and looked at Paige with concern. "Paige, I'm serious. You're in real danger of doing permanent damage to your knee. The tendons are weak and loose and adding strain on your muscles. If you're not careful you could dislocate it again." She chewed her lip. "I wish I could get you a cane." She mumbled to herself.

Paige barked a laugh. "Good luck with that."

Spencer pinned her with a look. "You need to stay off your leg as much as you can or you'll be using one for the rest of your life."

"Spencer, I'm losing my mind in here!" Paige shot back. "I can't just sit here."

"Why not?" Spencer fired back. "It's not like you have anywhere to go!"

Paige stilled, her jaw snapping shut on her next words, her eyes glittering with anger and hurt.

"Paige...I'm sorry…I didn't mean..." Spencer hung her head for a moment before placing her hands gently on Paige's uninjured leg and meeting her eyes again. "I know this is hard. I can't imagine what this must be like for you."

Paige's anger turned to sadness at Spencer's kind words and she could feel desperate tears threatening. "I'm okay."

Spencer sighed and reached for a heavy wrap and began winding it tightly around Paige's leg. It was all she could do right now. "This should help a little." She said.

"Thank you." Paige said. "For everything you're doing to help."

Spencer nodded. "I wish it were more. Tell me what else I can do." She offered sincerely.

Paige's throat tightened painfully and she couldn't stop the tears that fell silently. "Emily." She said barely a whisper and swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand.

Spencer nodded and swallowed hard around her own emotion. "I'll see to it. I promise." She eased Paige's pant leg back down and held out her hands to help her up. "In the meantime." She said with a familiar glint in her eye. "You can look forward to going back into that leg brace when you get out of here."

Paige couldn't help a laugh as she stood. "When I get out of here, Hastings, you can have your way with me. Medically speaking, of course."

"Don't tease, McCullers." Spencer shot back.

Marshal Fields appeared in the doorway. Spencer's smile faltered and Paige's face dropped and she took a step back as they both saw the manacles held in his hands.

"Is that really necessary?" Spencer asked sharply.

Paige shook her head and backed up another step. "You're not putting me in chains again."

"Paige, I'm sorry." The Marshal frowned. "It's for your own protection."

Paige glared at him."How do you figure that?"

"We'll be outside, in public. We need to keep up the pretense of you being a murderer." He gestured toward the front of the building. "There are bound to be people around. If they see you out unrestrained they could think you're trying to escape. Someone could could get overexcited and shoot you and I don't know that I could stop them." He explained.

Paige eyed him warily and her eyes flicked to Spencer. Spencer sighed and nodded her agreement. It was the only way.

"Please, try to understand." The Marshal said sympathetically. "If there was any other way…." He trailed off.

Paige breathed slowly and exhaled. She nodded and stepped forward, holding out her hands.

The Marshal locked the iron bands around her wrists and she let her hands drop in front of her, the chains jingling at her waist. "I'm ready." She said.


	12. Chapter 12

Spencer slid an arm around Paige's waist and took her some of her weight as she limped along next to her toward the front. When they got to the door Spencer let her go to slip into her coat. She grabbed the old wool coat off a hook and draped it across Paige's shoulders.

The Marshal gripped Paige's upper arm to offer her support and ensure anyone who saw them knew he had her under control and didn't try anything stupid in the name of justice.

It was full dark when they hit the street in front of the jail. The few people still out slowed and stared openly at Paige as they walked past. Womens' eyes went wide and hands fluttered at their throats or to cover their mouths with breathy gasps. Mens' eyes narrowed and they stepped in front of their children and and wives in protection, hands twitching at their hips if they were armed.

Paige dropped her head. She couldn't meet their eyes for shame of something she didn't even do. Even after this was over she didn't know how she would ever hold her head up in this town again.

The Marshal hustled her across the street to the Rosewood, Spencer by her side. The lights burned on but the door was closed and the shutters drawn.

"Spencer!" A voice boomed from around the corner.

Spencer whipped around at the sound of her name. "Toby!" She said and fell into his open arms.

"Where has everyone been?" His eyes flicked to the Marshal and to Paige. "Paige, are you alright?" He asked. "What the hell is going on?" Toby's usual calm was replaced with concern and agitation.

The Marshal frowned. They were too exposed. They needed to move inside. "Not here." He growled and steered Paige toward the door of the saloon. Spencer and Toby followed.

True to his word the place was empty save for Caleb who was waiting for them by the front door. He ushered them all through the front door and closed it behind them. They all stood staring at each other for a moment, no one knowing quite where to begin.

Paige looked around the empty saloon as if seeing it for the first time. She reached across her shoulder with both hands and dragged the heavy coat off, laying it across the table by the door. She left the others by the door, talking over each other with concerns and explanations as she wandered to the middle of the empty room.

She spun in a slow circle, relaxing her eyes and clearing her mind trying to keep her breathing deep and even. She turned toward the bar and her eyes came to rest on a table nearby she could see them all sitting and laughing, bottles of wine open on the table. "We sat over there." She said quietly and raised her arms, chains jangling, to point to the table.

The conversation behind her stopped abruptly as the others turned toward her with interest. Paige ignored them and walked to the table. There were six chairs around it. Did she really remember or was it just obvious because there was enough room for them all and it was near the bar where Caleb would need to be?

She looked around the table and moved to the back of a chair. "Spencer…" She whispered and moved to the next. "Toby…" She moved around again. "Hanna...Caleb…" She came to the next chair and stopped. "I was sitting here." Her eyes flicked to the last unnamed chair. "Next to Emily."

The door opened with a blast of cold air. "Marshal Fields!" Hanna blurted as she stepped into the room. "We've been looking everywhere for you."

They all turned as Hanna stomped her way in out of the cold and snow, followed closely by Emily.

"Emily!" Her father exclaimed and shook his head. "What are you doing here? You shouldn't be here."

Emily looked at him with surprise. "Why not?" She looked to her friends with a gesture. "Everyone else is…" She trailed off as her eyes landed on someone else standing near the bar. Paige.

Paige turned at the sound of Emily's voice and froze. She was here. Her hair windblown and cheeks and nose rosy from the cold. Emily's eyes snapped with fire at her father and her breath came hard and fast. The sight of her never failed to take Paige's breath away and tonight, more than ever, Paige felt her legs weaken and her heart race.

Emily took a step toward her. "Oh, my, God, Paige."

The Marshal tensed and took a step but Spencer stopped him with a firm hand on his arm. "No." She insisted. "Leave them."

The Marshal looked at Spencer hard but nodded, knowing she was right. He needed to protect his daughter but keeping her from the woman she loved wasn't the right way.

Emily swallowed hard and moved towards her. Paige held her eyes for a few beats before looking away, her face falling in uncertainty as she twisted her hands in the chains locked together in front of her.

Emily closed the distance between them and reached for her, brushing the hair off her face and putting a hand under her chin to lift her head. "Look at me." She whispered, her voice cracking with emotion. "I love you. I know you." She gripped the chain at Paige's wrists and lifted her hands gently so she could slip her head under her arms, wrapping her own arms around Paige's waist, pulling her close with a sob of relief at feeling her body against her.

Paige began to tremble at Emily's touch, her nearness, her smell, as her arms settled across Emily's neck. As the familiar feel of Emily's arms slipped around her holding her tight Paige's walls cracked open. She threaded her hands into Emily's hair and gripped her tight, burying her face in her neck as all the fear and confusion of the past days burst free and she wept openly, holding on to Emily for dear life.

"Oh, Love, I'm sorry." Emily breathed into her hair as she stroked her back. "I know you didn't do this. I was just shocked and scared. I never doubted you. I'm so sorry if I made you think that." Emily murmured into her ear.

Paige couldn't speak, could barely breath as Emily whispered to her the words she had been so desperate to hear. She didn't realize, even with Spencer and the Marshal on her side, how alone she had felt without Emily until now. "Don't let me go." She choked out.

Emily didn't know how long they held each other. A moment, an eternity, it didn't matter it would never be long enough. When she felt Paige's body relax and her tears subside she pulled away just far enough to look at her face. Paige's eyes were bright and red-rimmed. She looked tired and very scared. Emily brushed at the tears on her cheeks with her finger tips. "Are you alright?" She asked gently.

Paige nodded, still too emotional to speak and lifted her arms from around Emily's neck, caressing her face, her neck and letting her hands come to rest on Emily's chest over her heart. She felt it beat strong and steady against her palms and let her eyes drift closed for a moment, leaning in to close the small distance between them. She felt Emily's lips against hers, soft and tender, in a kiss meant to convey all the feelings for which there are no words.

Emily covered Paige's hands with her own, wincing at the feel of the cold iron circling Paige's wrists, snapping her back to reality. "Paige, what's going on?"

Paige opened her eyes and looked back over Emily's shoulder to the others watching their reunion with varying degrees of emotion. She couldn't help the quirk of her mouth as she saw Spencer swipe, quickly, at her eyes. Paige cleared her throat and pulled away from Emily but held her hands. "You should probably let your father explain."

"Dad?" Emily asked and pinned him with a look so much like her mother he almost laughed.

Her father cleared his throat. This wasn't what he had planned and he knew he was pushing the envelope of what he could get away with as the Marshal. If they got caught out here, sitting around with a presumed murderer he wasn't sure how he would explain it. He needed their help though and with it, perhaps, they could get to the bottom of this and clear Paige's name and find the true killer. "Sit." He said and gestured to the table. "Where you were sitting at dinner. It might help." He added.

He told them what he knew. What he and Spencer had discovered. The possible fight in the stable, the inconsistencies with the supposed murder weapon and lack of defensive evidence on Alison's hands. The chimney failure at the jail and their suspicions that it wasn't an accident.

The Marshal watched them as he revealed all the information he had. Emily grew increasingly alarmed and gripped Paige's hands hard at the news that they thought someone, more than likely the real murderer, had tried to kill her.

When he finished The Marshal scrubbed his face with his hands and blew out a slow breath. "And that's all I have for the moment so, if any of you have anything to add, now would be the time."

Caleb and Hanna shared a look and Caleb narrowed his eyes at her and gave a jerk of his head letting her know, in no uncertain terms, she needed to speak up about Mona.

Hanna chewed her lip and hesitated. She knew it was important but didn't want to get Mona in trouble.

Spencer watched the entire exchange with surprise. "Hanna?" She blurted. "What's going on?"

Hanna's eyes slid closed and she sighed. "Um, last night Caleb and I caught Mona snooping around Ali's room…"

Paige wanted to pay attention. She understood her life was at stake. The Marshal could prove, pretty solidly, that she didn't kill Alison which would probably get her out of jail but, without the real killer, she may still be in danger. And Emily, and all of them. She needed to remember what happened. She had to have seen something that would help.

Paige let the feel of Emily's hand in hers ground her as she pushed the conversation going on around her to the back of her mind. Ezra Fitzgerald was there behind her, cajoling her to join the poker game. Ian Thomas was there, as well, drunk and laughing. Emily smiled at her and encouraged her to go telling her she would see her later.

"Paige." Emily called to her again and she stared vacantly at nothing. "Paige, are you alright?" She squeezed her hand.

"What?" Paige jerked back to awareness, her eyes snapping into focus. "Sorry, I'm just, um, trying…" She trailed off and rubbed her eyes. She was so tired. "...trying to remember."

The conversation about Mona had been going around in circles always coming back to what she had been looking for and why? And was it the same thing the killer had been looking for? They weren't getting anywhere. Marshal Fields would be going to speak with Mona first thing in the morning.

"Don't worry." Emily smiled encouragingly. "It will come back." She said softly.

The Marshal scrubbed at his face again. "Anything else?" He didn't expect anyone to answer and was already planning his next step. He needed to see Alison's room again.

"Um…" Hanna mumbled, head down, and looked to Emily for support. "...there's one more thing."

Paige's head snapped to Emily who had, she could tell, obviously, been up to something. "Emily" She began. "You need to stay away from this."

Emily looked hard at Paige. "There is no way I'm letting you go through this alone, Paige."

"Emily-" Her father sighed.

She cut him off with a wave of her had. "That goes for you, too!" She looked between her father and Paige, her eyes flashing with determination. "Now, do you want to know what we have to say, or not?"

Emily and Hanna filled them in on the discovery of Cece Drake's suspicious behavior. Keeping her friendship with Ali a secret, checking out mysteriously and leaving all her things behind and not being able to find any evidence of her leaving town.

Marshal Fields listened, intently, to his daughter's account of their investigations today. Part of him was frustrated and worried for Emily but a larger part of him was proud and impressed with her strength and resourcefulness. They had provided a lot of information and done a better a job of following it up than, perhaps, his own deputies would have done. Unfortunately, they now had even more questions and very few answers. He needed to find Cece Drake and, if she was still in town, he would.

Paige's head was spinning. Every time she heard someone mention Cece Drake's name some memory itched at the back of her mind. She felt jittery and her hands ached from the manacles. She couldn't sit there any longer and stood abruptly, dropping Emily's hands.

Paige turned from the table and looked over the room again. She limped slowly toward the table where the poker games were held.

"Paige-" Emily called to her and stood, intending to go after her. She frowned at Paige's obvious pain.

Spencer stopped her with a hand on her arm. "Let her go." Spencer said in a low voice. "She needs to remember."

"She needs help-" Emily started.

"I know." Spencer acknowledged. "I'll make sure she's okay."

Paige circled the table like she had done before, touching the back of each chair as she went around. "Fitz...Thomas….Hastings….Hackett…." She murmured. She dropped down into the chair in which she usually sat and reached for the deck of cards in the middle of the table. She spread her arms as far as the chain between her wrists would allow, just far enough to let her shuffle the deck. She riffled the cards a few times, letting the memories come.

"I had a beer…" She said to no one in particular. "...not from the bar….someone gave it to me…" She closed her eyes and was silent a few beats. "...Dr. Hastings gave it to me." She finished opening her eyes.

Spencer sucked in a breath but they all remained silent, unwilling to interrupt and break Paige's concentration.

Paige turned and tilted her head slightly, imagining the feel of hands on her neck. She jerked and stood. "Alison." She breathed. She moved away from the table and toward the door. "She didn't want me to go. She was taunting me. Asking me why I would still be with Emily when I could have her."

Paige turned from the door and scanned back to the room. "They were all watching, laughing…" She frowned, a small sound of frustration coming from the back of her throat. The memories were getting harder to access. "The drugs must have been in the beer...everything is getting so hazy…" She pinched the bridge of her nose to try and ward off the headache threatening behind her eyes.

Paige looked back to the poker table. She could see them all looking at her, leering at them and hoping for a show. All except Ian Thomas. Paige frowned. "Ian Thomas got up right after me. He wasn't at the table when I left."

She looked around the room again, her eyes flicking up to the balcony. "Cece Drake." She said, her eyes going wide. "She was upstairs, watching us with some of the other girls."

Paige could feel her energy flagging, she was losing her focus and with it the thread of the memories. "I need to go outside, retrace my steps to the stable." She turned to the table where she had laid her coat and her knee went out on her, sending her staggering into the chairs with a grunt of pain. She managed to catch herself and keep from going to the ground.

"Paige!" Emily cried and rushed to her, getting an arm around her waist and easing her into a chair.

"I'm okay." Paige said but winced and clutched at her knee. "Help me outside."

"No." Emily said firmly. "That's enough for now, Paige."

"I can do this, Emily, please, just help me up. " She pleaded with her and looked to the Marshal for support. "I can remember."

The Marshal looked to Emily, her face a mask of concern and fear for Paige's well being. "It's okay, Paige." He answered his daughter's unspoken plea. "You did great. We can come back to it."

Paige sagged in defeat and exhaustion and dropped her head into her hands.

Emily stroked her hand across Paige's back in comfort. Paige was pushing herself too hard. Emily's stomach clenched thinking about how much strain she was under. Maybe she could remember more but, more than likely, she'd would just drive herself to total collapse and that would serve no one. They had more of the pieces. If they could put them together they could figure this out.


	13. Chapter 13

The Marshal turned from Paige and Emily and moved on. It was getting late and he had to get Paige back to her cell soon. The longer they stayed out the more suspicion they were going to draw.

"Caleb, are any of the girls left upstairs." He asked.

"No, Sir." Caleb answered with a shake of his head. "Between yesterday and today they've all scattered. If not out of fear that they'll be next then out of lack of direction and purpose." He shrugged. "Ali ran a tight ship here. With her gone I don't think they knew what to do with themselves."

The Marshal scowled at this. "I don't suppose you could take a look around Ali's room and tell me if anything is missing?" He asked hopefully.

Caleb's eyes widened, face flaming at the implication, and flicked to Hanna who was glaring at him, one eyebrow cocked in interest. "No, Sir." He answered simply and honestly.

The Marshal glanced to Toby and opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't look at me." Toby fired off quickly.

Emily's heart pounded in her chest at what she was about to do. She hadn't planned on bringing this up and adding more stress to Paige's already unbearable situation but she couldn't remain silent either. She inhaled, counted to to ten and exhaled slowly. "I can." She said and stood from where she had been sitting with Paige.

Paige knew what was coming when the Marshal asked. She tensed, waiting for Emily to speak, still secretly hoping that what the Marshal had told her yesterday wasn't true. It shouldn't matter. Emily was a beautiful, vibrant woman with so much to offer. Paige never once thought she was the first person who would have noticed. Emily never spoke of her past romances and Paige never asked. It wasn't any of her business and it played no part in their life together. Until now.

Paige couldn't help a small strangled sound as Emily stood and offered to help. She couldn't look at her. After what she had put Emily through with her drinking and shameful behavior, with Alison no less, she had no right to be hurt and jealous and Emily didn't owe her any explanation. Nevermind the other woman had been brutally murdered. Her head knew this but her heart ached as Emily moved to join her father and ascend the stairs to the second floor.

Emily moved away from Paige and longed to hold her and tell her she loved her, show her she loved her like no other. Her relationship with Ali had not been one of love but of a need born out of tremendous loss and loneliness. It had been a brief affair. They had both gotten what they needed and moved on without regret. She needed Paige to know Alison had been fleeting for her and she was forever.

Hanna nudged Caleb as soon as Emily and her father headed up the stairs and nodded to the bar and then to Paige. Caleb agreed silently and slipped back behind the bar. He returned a moment later with a bottle of his finest whiskey and enough glasses for all of them. He set it all down at the table Paige sat motionless at and poured.

Hanna slipped the glass into Paige's hands her fingers curled reflexively around it. "It's okay." Hanna said softly. "Drink it."

Emily moved across the balcony toward Alison's room. Her father moved to unlock the door and Emily looked down to the room below. Paige sat, their friends around her, staring at nothing, a glass of whiskey clutched in her hands.

Paige could feel Emily's eyes on her. She swallowed around the lump in her throat and met Emily's gaze. She managed a small smile and a nod of her head to let Emily know she was alright before she disappeared into Alison's room. Paige drained her glass and held it out to Caleb for more.

Emily worked to hide her shock as her father brightened the room with a lantern and she saw the full extent of the violence. The blood had blackened and the smell was thick and overpowering. Alison's room, once well appointed, feminine and strong lay in pieces, carelessly and cruelly ruined like her body.

Emily struggled to control her her breathing and do what she needed to do. She didn't want to stay in here any longer than she needed to. She called up an image in her mind of the last time she was here. It was late on a quiet night, long before there was Aria Montgomery to draw in the crowds, and Emily had slipped in the back and into Alison's room silently.

It had been a cool night, affording Emily the opportunity to wear her cloak to hide herself and not look out of place. She had dropped it on the floor. Alison lay on the bed, waiting for her, a bottle of wine on her bedside table and candles lit on her bureau which flickered shadows along the walls and ceiling.

Emily pushed the image of Alison out of her mind and focused on the room as she remembered it as she walked around the ruin of it at her feet, carefully picking her way around spatters of congealed blood.

"Emmy." Her father spoke from behind her, loathe to interrupt but not wanting to miss out on this chance to speak to her privately.

"Hmm?" Came her distracted reply.

"I'm sorry." He said, his voice rough with emotion. "For how I treated you. For the things I said. I was trying to protect you but I know I hurt you and I hope you can forgive me."

Emily turned, swallowing heavily at her father's uncharacteristic show of emotion. "You did your job." She replied, not meaning for it come out so cold. "You did what you thought was best. There's nothing to forgive."

He nodded. He hadn't expected to be let off the hook so easily but he shouldn't have been surprised. His daughter was so much like her mother with her enormous heart and tremendous capacity for compassion, trust and understanding. "I'm sorry about the things I said to Paige. I should never have...it wasn't my place...she didn't deserve it and neither do you."

Emily smiled grimly and looked around the room. "It doesn't matter now, does it?"

"I just want you to know." He continued. "I'm going to do everything I can to protect her."

Emily turned away from him, fighting tears. She couldn't talk about Paige right now while she was standing on Alison's room. "I know you will." She said and went back to her examination of Alison's things.

The room and all its contents were such a wreck she wasn't sure how she could possibly tell if something was missing. She moved to the bureau and picked through her up ended jewelry box, books with the pages torn out and broken glass from a mirror. She idly wondered why someone, having just committed a brutal murder would take the time to tear the pages out of books.

Emily picked up the end of a golden taper candle burned to a stub and rolled it around in between her fingers. Its mate rested under a pile of broken pearls. Candles just like this had burned down to nothing while they were together the last time.

Emily frowned and looked around the top of the bureau, then the floor, crouching to peer under the bed without touching anything.

"What is it?" Her father asked.

Emily stood and held out the candle nub. "The candlesticks. She had a pair of silver candlesticks. They were her grandmother's. Beautiful and intricately designed on a solid round pedestal base detailed with acanthus leaves and pearl ropes."

Her father's eyes widened at her detailed description.

Emily shrugged. "She loved them. And she loved her grandmother, maybe the only person."

"How big were they?" He asked.

Emily considered. "Just under two feet, maybe? And heavy." She looked around again. "Someone must have stolen them. I'm sure they were worth a lot of money. Maybe one of the girls when they left."

Her father pursed his lips in thought. "I don't think so, Baby. Why take something so bulky and leave all this jewelry if all you wanted was something to sell for cash?"

Emily frowned. "Why then?"

Her father narrowed his eyes. "Because one of them was used to crush the skull of Alison DiLaurentis."

Emily opened her mouth to reply but never got the chance as they heard the crash of wood splintering followed by shouts and booted feet across the saloon floor. They raced out of the room in time to see three men charge the saloon and haul Paige backwards out of her chair with a cry of alarm, dragging her out the door while their friends leapt from their chairs and out the doors after them with shouts of surprise and anger.

"Stop!" Marshal Fields bellowed as he took the stairs two at a time, Emily trying to keep up with him.

They crossed the room and burst out the front door and watched helplessly as the men threw Paige to the ground in the street into the icy mess of mud and slush. Paige got her hands in front of her in time to protect her head as she skidded a stop, with a gasp of shock at the cold, in the middle of a crowd of angry townspeople.

Her clothes soaked through instantly and she struggled to push herself off the ground out of the icy water. A booted foot pressed down against the back of her shoulder.

"Stay down, Coward." An unfamiliar man snarled at her and pinned her to the ground.

Paige stilled, shivering with cold, fear and anger. She wasn't going to do anything to anger them further and risk a boot to the head or ribs.

"I said, Stop!" The Marshal roared, his hand going to his hip. The mob was unarmed, as far as he could tell, and he wasn't going to draw on them unless absolutely necessary. "Wyatt!" He pointed to the man holding Paige down. "Get off of her, now!"

The man moved off of her and took a step back. Paige scrambled around with effort to get her upper body out of the ice and pushed herself to her knees, breathing heavily with adrenaline and exertion. She tried to look non threatening which wasn't hard as she was exhausted already and now freezing but otherwise unharmed.

Emily started to take a step forward but her father gripped her arm hard and gave a short shake of his head. She couldn't help her now and had to trust he would take care of this. His eyes flicked to Toby, Caleb, Hanna and Spencer all with similar expressions of outrage and concern for their friend. He willed them not to do anything stupid.

"What the hell is going on?" He barked as his eyes swept the mob. They were the men of the families, the business owners, shopkeepers and trades folk. Ian Thomas was there, watching with interest. He was surprised to see Carter Hackett here, near the front looking upset and ringing his hands. The man was usually so genteel. The Marshal's eyes flicked behind him to his wife, the only woman, her face blank. It occurred to him that the riot may have started at the hotel if the saloon was closed. Lucas Gottesman stood on a barrel nearby, watching and listening intently, scribbling everything down in his notebook for the next edition.

He read on their faces their anger and fear. There had been a murder in their town and they were worried for their safety and the safety of their wives and children. He was worried for that. too. The problem was Paige wasn't who they needed to be worried about. He couldn't tell them that.

One of the other men spoke up. "You tell us, Marshal." He hollered. "Why are you closing down the saloon so you can have drinks with his filth?" He stepped toward Paige and kicked out, sending a spray of ice and water at her.

She brought up her hands in an effort to block the worst of it but was soaked anew as icy slush trickled down her face and chest, sliding beneath her shirt.

Emily closed her eyes and clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out. Her heart ached to see Paige like this, scared and shivering in the street. She felt hands go around her as Spencer and Hanna moved to her sides in support and to keep her from doing anything rash.

The Marshal glared at the people. "Listen carefully." He spoke low and swept his gaze around ensuring all eyes were on him. "This is an investigation. The prisoner is out to walk me through the events of the night of the murder. Nothing more." He saw movement and was relieved to see his deputies shoulder their way through the crowd. He met their eyes and they nodded their readiness to do what he commanded.

"You know she done it, Marshal." Someone shouted from the back. "Why don't we hang her now?"

The suggestion incited the crowd again and there were shouts and jeers of agreement as they began to push their way in toward Paige. He glanced to her and frowned. She remained on her knees, her hands up around her chest to protect herself if necessary while her eyes darted around the crowd to assess from which direction the threat might come. He could see her shaking with cold, her hands and face colorless but determined. He knew she would defend herself and someone would get hurt. He needed to shut this down now.

"Enough!" He bellowed. "We are a lawful town with decent law abiding people. If someone breaks the law they are arrested and tried fairly and justly. I will not stand for vigilante justice." He looked around again and saw the men starting to back off again. "I understand you are all scared and worried. A murder is an awful thing and I promise you the person responsible will be punished."

He saw nodding and murmuring. He was talking them down. "Go home." He yelled to them. "Hug your children and hold your wives. Believe that the law will prevail here because I assure you it will." He was speaking as much to reassure the crowd as he was to the person truly responsible for the crime. He knew they would be here. He wondered if, in fact, they had incited this whole mess and scanned the crowd intently again to try and take in all the faces.

"I will make you another promise, too." He said, voice pitched low. "Anyone thinking to take justice into their own hands will find themselves in an adjoining cell in my jail."

Before anyone else had a chance to move he stepped forward, closing the distance to Paige in three long strides, and yanked her to her feet.

Paige groaned at the sudden movement, her muscles tight and sore from the cold as the Marshal thrust her into the hands of the deputies. She understood he had to show force and authority in front of the town and she bit down on a gasp of pain as the men held her firmly by the arms, jerking her hands tight in the shackles.

"Take her back to her cell." The Marshal ordered. He turned and met Emily's tortured gaze and shook his head, almost imperceptibly, to get her to stay calm. "Miss Hastings." He barked at Spencer. "Find her some dry clothes and clean her up before she dies of exposure before we can get her to trial."

Marshal Fields held his steely expression even as he watched his daughter bolt back into the Rosewood, fighting tears, Hanna by her side. Toby and Caleb looked hard at him before joining them inside. He heard the door lock behind them.

* * *

**More of the pieces falling into place or more questions? They'll get there. We've turned the corner.**


	14. Chapter 14

By the time Spencer got back to the jail and cajoled a deputy into letting her back to see Paige she had stripped out of her wet clothes and sat, huddled, on her cot wrapped in the rough wool blanket.

Paige gave Spencer a weak smile as Deputy Campbell let her into the cell and locked the door behind her letting Spencer know to call out for them when she was ready to leave. Spencer nodded at him in understanding and turned back to Paige who, she could tell, still shivered under the blanket.

"That was...fun…" Paige stammered with a quirk of her mouth.

"A hoot." Spencer replied dryly as she pulled a flask from her kit and unwrapped the cloth she had used to insulate it. "Drink this while it's still warm."

Paige extended a shaky hand, taking the flask. She needed both hands around it to get it to her mouth without dribbling it down her chin. It was awful, as Spencer's herbal concoctions usually were, but it was warm and helped drive the chill from her chest.

Spencer watched her drink it, making sure she got it all down. "Don't you want to know what's in it?" She asked. Paige was usually wary of whatever Spencer was giving her.

Paige sighed and swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand as she finished. "I don't care." She said tiredly. "Unless you tell me there's something that will make this all go away."

Spencer nodded. "Only for a little while, I'm afraid. It's just something to help you relax and get some rest."

Paige nodded. "Figured as much."

Spencer dug out the dry clothes she brought and helped Paige fasten the buttons on her shirt and the waist of her pants. Paige was already starting to feel the effects of the tonic and stretched back out on the cot on her back, dragging the blanket across her and draping her arms across her face. She had little energy for anything else.

Spencer sat next to her on the edge of the cot and adjusted the blanket to cover her better. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" Paige repeated and started to laugh. She knew she must have sounded mad but she couldn't stop herself. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" Manic laughter continued to bubble up from deep with in her.

"Paige-" Spencer began.

Paige shook off the encroaching drowsiness and pushed herself back up so she was leaning against the wall. "I'm in jail for a murder I didn't commit." She gestured to her cell. "The real murderer, whoever the hell that is, is trying to kill me, too. That is, if the townspeople don't hang me from the nearest oak first." Her voice rose in bitter indignation as she rapped at the side of her head with her knuckles. "I can't remember what happened and I can barely walk so I'm bloody useless to help."

Spencer frowned in worry. Paige was enraged and had every right to be but they couldn't afford to have her unravel now. She needed to keep her wits about her to protect herself and help them solve this. She was beginning to wonder if she should have given Paige something stronger to calm her. "I know this is hard-" Spencer tried.

Paige ignored her and raged on, her eyes flashing with hurt and fury. "Oh, but the good news is because Emily fucked Alison once upon a time she may have all the answers!" She spat out.

Spencer jerked back, slightly, at her ferocity and stared, wide eyed at her.

Paige blinked slowly, as if realizing what she'd just said, and let out a deep breath. "Jesus, Spencer, I'm sorry." She breathed and dropped her head into her hands. "Please, don't repeat that." She mumbled into her hands.

Spencer couldn't help a small smile as Paige's tirade flamed out as quickly as it began leaving her shivering again and looking ashen. "It's okay. Lie down." Spencer insisted and helped her back down onto the cot pulling up the blanket around her.

"Please, don't tell Emily." Paige rambled, the herbal sedatives taking hold of her again. "I didn't mean that. I'm not angry. Tell her I'm not angry. I don't care about any of that with Alison." She gripped Spencer's arm weakly as her eyelids started to get heavy and her breathing slowed. "Don't let Emily do anything…" Paige struggled against sleep. "...dangerous…" She sighed deeply.

Spencer waited until Paige' breathing slowed, becoming deep and even. With any luck she would sleep through the night and well into the morning. She needed rest more than anything right now. She called for Deputy Campbell to let her out.

Spencer hit the street, walking quickly to the Rosewood. There will still people milling around and she caught the Marshal walking the boardwalk, making his presence known by answering questions and offering words of reassurance that he was doing everything he could to keep the people safe and, she suspected, making an effort to suss out how that mob got started.

Spencer paused and waited for him to turn toward her. She caught his eye and he raised his brow in a silent question. She nodded in reply and gave a small smile. Paige was alright. He offered a smile of thanks in return and went back to his patrol.

Caleb let Spencer into the Rosewood and locked the door again behind her. He didn't want anymore unwanted visitors. Spencer dropped into an empty chair at their table and reached for a piece of bread and cheese.

Caleb had managed to scare up food for them which Hanna ate voraciously and Emily pushed, sullenly, around on her plate. She looked up when Spencer came in, a question in her eyes.

"She's…" Spencer chewed and thought about how much to say. "...managing. The strain she's under is wearing on her but she's handling it." She offered Emily a smile of reassurance. "She's strong, Em, you know that better than anyone. She's going to get through this."

Emily sighed her relief but felt little better. She had wanted a chance to speak with Paige before her father took her back. She had hoped to spend some time with her and reassure her they were on her side and would do everything they could to find the person behind this and free her. Instead she had to watch, helplessly, as the townspeople taunted and abused her before the deputies dragged her away again.

Emily's mood was dark and settled over them all like a fog as they sat, silently, around the table.

"This is bullshit!" Hanna barked, startling them all. "We can't just sit here while Paige is locked up wrongly and there is a murderer running around loose in town."

Caleb reached for her hand. "Han, I don't know what we more we can do-"

Hanna rocketed out of her chair, sending it crashing back to the ground. "We can figure this out!" She cried and looked to them all. "We have all the pieces, we just need to put them together. After everything Paige has done for us I, for one, am not just going to sit here doing nothing while she suffers."

Emily straightened and looked to her friend with surprise and gratitude. Hanna was right. It was time for them to take action. She glanced to Spencer who watched Hanna with an amused expression, nodding slowly, impressed with Hanna's vehemence.

"I'm in." Toby agreed.

"Where do we start?" Caleb asked and gripped Hanna's hand in support.

"Let's run through what we know." Spencer said and looked to Emily

Emily's fog lifted, her heart filling with hope and love for her friends and the unconditional support they showed her and their belief in Paige. She swallowed thickly and fought tears. "We know Paige didn't do this." She began.

"What did you learn in Alison's room before those lunatics showed up?" Toby asked.

"Alison had these solid silver candlesticks. They're missing and my father thinks one of them may have been the murder weapon." Emily answered.

"Hmm." Spencer considered this. "Her injuries are consistent with a blunt instrument and we know it wasn't Paige's cane so that makes sense."

"So if we find the candlesticks we find the killer?" Hanna suggested.

"What kind of idiot would decorate their mantle with a murder weapon?" Spencer argued.

"What kind of idiot would throw out solid silver candlesticks?" Hanna shot back.

"Point" Spencer shrugged. "Let's come back to that."

"We should start from the beginning." Spencer said. "Paige got drugged sometime after she left us. We know it wasn't in our wine because none of the rest of us were affected."

"It could have been anyone." Caleb said. "The place was packed. How hard would it have been to slip something into her drink?"

"Not very." Spencer agreed. "The place was busy as usual on a performance night. Which is probably why the killer picked then and to even assume Paige would be here."

"Why Paige?" Hanna asked.

"She's a good choice what with carrying a plausible murder weapon on her." Toby offered. "She's still a stranger here to many and recently she's been involved in…" He trailed off and eyed Emily.

"It's okay." Emily said. "You can say it. She's the perfect suspect. She's still relatively unknown except for the stories everyone has heard and who knows how they've been twisted around by now. I'm sure it's not hard to believe she could do this." Emily sighed. "Especially with the way she was acting lately. Her relationship with Alison, such as it was, was pretty visible. The drinking and gambling and…" Emily swallowed. "...they way she treated me."

They all knew Paige, in her darkest moments had been harsh with Emily and, more than likely, others in the town knew as well. It all added up to make Paige an ideal suspect.

"It's in the past, Em, she wasn't herself." Hanna said. "None of that matters now."

"It will to a judge." Emily said darkly.

"It will never go that far." Spencer said firmly. "We won't let that happen."

"We haven't managed to narrow down the suspect field at all." Caleb pointed out. "So, let's come at this a different way. We need to look at who is familiar enough with Paige and who wants Alison dead and I think we can rule out the serving girls or any of Alison's girls, for that matter. She was good to them. She took care of them."

"Cece?" Hanna offered.

Spencer shook her head. "It doesn't work. She just got here. She's involved somehow but she knows nothing of Paige's history."

"It's got to be one of the halfwits she played poker with." Hanna blurted without thinking. "Sorry, Spence." She added.

"No, it's okay." She answered not interested in defending her father's penchant for gambling. "It's occurred to me that my father could be involved but I don't think so. "There are too many inconsistencies with the evidence. He wouldn't have made such careless mistakes. I think we can rule him out."

Hanna nodded. "Who does that leave?" She asked.

"Carter Hackett, Ezra Fitzgerald, and Ian Thomas." Caleb offered. "For what it's worth they were also at the table the last time Page was here." He eyed Emily. "The night she got...angry with you."

"I remember." Emily sighed. "They know Paige well enough. They've see her...dark side. They've witnessed her relationship with Ali first hand." The more she listed the reasons they looked like suspects the more interested in the idea she became. She could tell the others thought so, too, as they say up straighter in their chairs.

Spencer picked up her thread. "They had access to Paige's drink. They could keep an eye her and anyone of them could have followed her out of the bar that night, attacked her and then come back in and killed Ali later."

"Didn't Paige just say Ian Thomas wasn't at the table when she left?" Hanna said excitedly. "He's such a slime." She added.

Spencer snorted. "We're going to have to do better than that, Han. If being a toad was synonymous with murderer half the men in this town would be locked up."

"What's the motive?" Toby asked.

"Mona had a lot to say about that." Hanna began. "Someone in debt to Ali? Jealous lover? Jealous wife?"

"Oh, Jesus, Mona." Spencer sighed. "Where does she fit into all this?"

Emily chewed the inside of her cheek. "The killer was looking for something, right? Something important enough to kill for. What if Mona was looking for it, too?"

"Why would Mona want it?" Hanna asked.

"To protect someone?" Caleb offered.

"To conceal something?" Toby suggested.

"What, though?" Hanna asked.

Silence fell as they all considered what they knew. If they could discover what the killer was looking for and, even better, find it themselves then they might just have the answers they needed.

Spencer stared off at nothing, an idea forming at the back of her mind which must have shown in her eyes.

"What are you thinking?" Toby asked.

"I keep really good records at the clinic." She began in a, seemingly, unrelated direction. "Everyone who comes in, when, what for, what their treatment plan is, when we expect them back, what they owe. Everything." She finished.

"And?" Hanna asked not following.

Spencer looked at Hanna. "If someone wanted information on your shop, Hanna, or on your customers or your materials or what your expenses and profits where would they look?" She asked.

Hanna shrugged. "I keep a ledger of accounts. That's just good business."

Emily nodded, eyes bright with interest as she caught on. "We do the same. All our sales and purchases, information about breeding and health of the stock. You're right, it's good business."

"And Ali was an excellent business woman." Spencer stated. "There's no way she didn't keep some kind of record of her, um, clients or who she's loaned money to." She looked around the table excitedly. "What do you wager that's what everyone is looking for?"

Emily chewed her thumbnail. "We have to look again in Ali's room. There were books thrown around, pages torn out. I thought it was strange but maybe…" She trailed off and looked up to the second floor in time to see a flash of movement streaking across the dimly lit balcony. Emily rocketed it out of chair, her hand going to her mouth with a gasp.


	15. Chapter 15

Toby and Spencer stood, heads whipping to follow Emily's gaze. "What! Emily, what did you see?" Spencer asked.

"I think someone is up there?" Emily replied shakily, scanning the second floor.

"Come on." Toby tapped Caleb on the shoulder and they took off for the second floor, Spencer, Emily and Hanna behind them. They reached the second floor, a cold wind blew in from the back door left ajar.

Caleb pushed it open and stepped out onto the landing to the back stairs. The night was dark, she sky overcast with little moon or starlight. He squinted into the night but saw no sign of an intruder. He turned back in, locking the door behind him. "There's no one here. The door must have blown open. Are you sure you saw someone, Emily?" He asked.

"I'm sure." Emily replied as her friends looked at her with concern. "I think I'm sure...I don't know. It was quick and there was this dark flowing movement."

"Maybe a shadow?" Hanna offered.

Emily covered her face with her hands and massaged her temples. "I don't know. I don't know anything anymore." She sighed.

Spencer placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's okay, Em, it's late and you're exhausted. You're dealing with a lot right now. The stress is going to take its toll."

"No." Emily said. "I'm fine. We need to help Paige." Emily turned back to Alison's room, the door still ajar and lantern light still flickering from inside from their examination of it earlier. "I'm going to search Ali's room." She walked off leaving the others staring after her with concern.

"I'll go with you." Spencer said and hurried to catch up. She turned back to Toby and Caleb. "Watch the doors?" She asked.

Toby nodded and he and Caleb took up positions at the front and back doors to make sure they had no more unwelcome visitors.

Hanna was left standing by herself. She chewed a nail, glancing up and down the balcony. "Wait for me." She hissed and ran to catch up with Emily and Spencer.

Emily picked her way back through the chaos of Alison's room. She tried to see if the mess was different than it had been earlier. Had she really seen someone up here? Were they back to search the room again? Was it Mona? Someone else?

She could tell nothing as she picked her way across the room again. She heard Spencer come in behind her and bite down on a gasp of dismay at the sight. She hadn't yet seen the damage. Spencer gathered herself quickly. They didn't have time for grieving their friend right now. "Where should I start."

Emily motioned to the wall nearest the door that held a large armoire, one door hanging at an odd angle, clothes hanging out of it. "That side." She said and moved to the shelves on the opposite wall that held Alison's books.

Hanna stood in the doorway chewing her fingers nervously as she watched Spencer and Emily work their way around the room. Spencer, systematically, went through Ali's clothes, checking the lining of her dresses, pockets and purses. Emily picked her way through the shelves examining all the boxes of jewelry, jars of perfume and flipping through pages of books before putting them, carefully back on the shelves.

"There's nothing here." Spencer turned from the armoire, frustrated. She stepped carefully across the floor and tapped on the boards, one at a time, with her foot.

"What are you doing?" Hanna asked.

"There may be a loose floorboard she could have hidden something under." She said as she made a circuit of the room.

Emily bent and picked up a red leather bound volume from the floor, partially hidden under loose bed clothes. She knew this book and her breath caught as she read the title. She sat on the bed and flipped through the pages.

Spencer worked her way all the way around the room before noticing Emily had stopped her search and sat, thoughtfully, thumbing through the book in her lap. "Em?" She asked softly.

"Great Expectations." Emily answered without looking up. "I gave her this book the last night we...the last time I was here." She continued to leaf through the pages. Alison had underlined a passage and Emily paused to read aloud, before thinking what it may mean. "I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace, against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be…" She trailed off. They had cared about each other, once, perhaps, a great deal but when she read these words all she could think about was Paige.

Spencer cleared her throat. "Emily, there's nothing here. We should go. It's really late."

"Really early, you mean." Hanna chimed in.

"I can't." Emily whispered. "I have to figure this out. Paige needs us."

"I know." Spencer soothed. "And we will but we can't help her if we all collapse from exhaustion." She reached and pulled Emily to her feet. "We'll come back to this tomorrow."

"Later, you mean." Hanna piped up.

Spencer ignored her. "Maybe your father will have figured out something or Paige will have remembered more."

Emily nodded and let Spencer lead her out of the room. Neither Hanna nor Spencer commented that she still clutched the book tightly in her hand.

* * *

Hanna raised the key to unlock the door to her shop and stopped, her brow furrowing, the door pushed open at her touch. It wasn't locked. She pushed the door open slowly and stepped in, a soft lantern light coming from off her her right.

She heard a rustle of movement and turned as a small, shrieking form hurtled at her, arms raised and brandishing a wooden club. Hanna screamed and threw her arms out to protect herself as the body crashed into her sending them both to the ground, a sharp pain radiating up her arm as she took a glancing blow from the club.

"Hanna?!" A shrill voice exclaimed.

"Mona?." Hanna gasped through gritted teeth as she clutched at her left arm with her right. "Get the hell off me."

Mona scrambled back and and turned up the lantern, illuminating the shop. "Oh, Hanna." She cried. "I'm sorry...I thought you were the burglar coming back."

"What the hell are you talking about…" Hanna ground out, trailing off as she looked around the shop. "Oh." She breathed as she took in the room. Her gowns were strew about, many ripped and ruined. The racks were broken, pieces of wood scattered throughout. Mona had been about to club her with an arm of a rack. "Who did this?" Hanna asked, tears pricking behind her eyes, as she struggled to her feet.

Mona shook her head. "I don't know. I came over tonight to check…" She chewed her lip and looked away. "...because I forgot something and I walked in on someone doing this."

"You saw them?" Hanna asked excitedly. "Who was it?"

"I didn't see." Mona confessed. "It was dark and they wore a coat or cloak. As soon as I opened the door they pushed past me and ran off."

Hanna frowned. "Which way?"

Mona shrugged. "Toward the outside of town, I think." She pointed further down from the shop away from the center of town.

Hanna's eyes went wide. "Spencer." She breathed and tore out the door toward the clinic, Mona fast on her heels.

They ran through the snow and slush to the side door of the clinic. The lights burned bright as they pushed their way in. "Spence?" Hanna called, tentatively.

"Back here." a hoarse voice replied followed by the sound of tinkling glass shards.

Hanna stepped into the exam room and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, my, God." Spencer was crouched on the ground sweeping up broken glass from shattered medicines and herbs.

Books had been pulled off the shelves, instruments scattered across the floor. "Are you alright?" Hanna asked.

"Fine." Spencer sniffed. She had obviously been crying. "Probably just riff raff looking for drugs." She said.

"I don't think so, Spencer." Hanna answered. "My shop was ruined, too."

Spencer froze midsweep and looked up at Hanna, noticing, for the first time, she was favoring her left arm. "Jesus, Hanna." She jumped up from the floor and guided Hanna to the exam table. "What happened? Did he hurt you?" She gently stretched out Hanna's arm and pushed her sleeve up. Her elbow was purpling and swelling.

"No." Hanna winced as Spencer prodded the bruise. "I didn't see whoever it was."

Spencer eyed her. "Then how did you-"

"Um, that was me." Mona spoke up from the doorway. "I thought Hanna was a thug and I attacked her with a piece of wood." She exclaimed matter of factly.

Spencer rolled her eyes and sighed, not bothering to turn around. "Your arm isn't broken, Hanna." She said with a relieved smile and searched the floor for a bandage with which to make a sling.

"It sure feels broken." Hanna grumbled and scowled at Mona.

"I said I was sorry." Mona replied and crossed her arms over her chest. "You should be thanking me for scaring that madman off before he did any more damage."

"Wait." Spencer turned to the small woman. "You saw him?"

Mona shook her head. "No." She sighed as if she has told the story a hundred times. "I didn't. It was dark and his face was covered."

Spencer turned from Mona and eyed Hanna hard. "Maybe Emily did see someone at the Rosewood tonight." She hissed under her breath as she tied the cloth around the back of Hanna's neck and slipped her arm into it.

Hanna's eyes went wide. "You think it was the same person?" Hanna asked quietly.

Spencer nodded slowly. "If he searched Ali's room again and still didn't find what he was looking for maybe he thinks someone else as it."

"You mean us?" Hanna finished. "He saw us all there so, he thinks we found it."

"He searched your shop then the clinic…" Spencer trailed off. "Oh, no, Emily."

* * *

Emily had ridden in with Spencer that morning. Had it only been in that morning? It felt like days ago as she leaned into Toby's back, her arms tight around his waist as he rode them back out to the ranch on Scrabble. She had no idea what time it was. Well after midnight, she suspected, as she was achingly tired.

She longed to get some rest but loathed going to their bed alone. She couldn't bear the thought of another night without Paige next to her. Her heart twisted in her chest at the thought of Paige spending another night in that cell. She must have tensed in anger as she felt Toby's hand on her arm squeezing gently.

As they rode into the yard Emily could see a single light on in the front room of the house. Holden must have lit a lantern anticipating their return. A single soft light glowed from the bunkhouse as well.

Toby gave Emily and arm and helped her dismount, dropping to the ground behind her. "I'll come in with you." He said stepping up the porch after her.

"No." Emily said tiredly. "Toby, it's fine."

"Are you sure?" Toby asked.

"I'm fine, really." Emily mustered a small smile. "I'm just going to wash up and go to bed. Thank you."

Emily hung her coat, hearing the thump of the book in the pocket as it swung against the wall. She would look at it another time. She moved slowly around the room, not bothering to lighten it further. She could navigate this space with her eyes closed.

Her feet were leaden and her shoulders slumped as she made her way to the stairs, head hanging with weariness. She was two steps from the stop when a large, dark form loomed over her from the landing.

Emily froze, mouth open in silent scream as a heavy body crashed into her, toppling her backward down the stairs as heavy footsteps thundered down the steps and out the front door. She tried to catch herself on the railing, her hand grasping out for anything to slow her fall with a cry of fear. She came down hard on her side, a shooting pain through her ribs, just under her breast took her breath away as she hit the steps and threw her arms up to protect her head, her body thudding down to the bottom.

Toby stood outside the house for a few minutes wondering if he should go after Emily to make sure she was okay. She would be alright. She just needed some rest and to process all that had happened today. Which was exactly what he planned as well, as he turned to lead Scrabble to the barn.

He stopped, looking around wildly, as he heard the whicker of a horse from somewhere to the side of the house. He stepped around the house and, next the woodpile, he could just make out the shuffling animal in the dark. "...the hell?" He murmured with a frown.

From inside the house he heard a crash, Emily cry out and the sound of booted feet before the door banged open and a dark figure ran down the length of the porch to the end, vaulted the rail and swung himself into the saddle.

* * *

**Really? 400 views a day and no one has anything to say?! I think my feelings may be hurt...**


	16. Chapter 16

Toby barely had time to reach for his sidearm before the rider was racing off down the track out of the yard. He made a move to go after him before he heard a gasp and groan from inside the house.

"Emily!" Toby yelled as he ran in to see her crumpled at the bottom of the stairs, her face twisted in pain as she struggled to push herself up, panting with the effort. "Christ, where are you hurt?" He demanded.

"My...ribs…" She said through gritted teeth as she managed to sit up and lean against the stairs, her right arm tucked in tight against her side, hunching over to catch her breath.

"Okay, Okay." Toby helped her to sit up. "I'm going to get Holden and send him into town. I'll be right back."

"I'm here." Holden yelled as he jumped up the porch steps and through the open door. "What happened?"

"Intruder." Was Toby's one word answer. "I need you to ride into town and get Spencer and Marshal Fields out here." He directed.

"Right away." Holden replied and turned for the door. "Uh, it looks like Spencer is here." Holden said as he peered out into the dark yard.

Toby frowned in confusion as Spencer drove her carriage into the yard far faster than the ground cover should have allowed. "Just the Marshal then. Go. Take Scrabble." Toby said and met Spencer on the front porch.

"Emily's hurt." Toby said as he helped her up the steps.

Spencer rushed into the room and dropped to Emily's side. "Let me see." She said and pulled Emily's arm away from her side.

Spencer unbuttoned Emily's blouse, letting it fall open to reveal her thin shift so she could better assess her injury. She walked her fingers along Emily's ribs one at a time. She felt a slight shift in one and Emily's breath hitched with a moan of pain when she touched her. "Cracked, at least." Spencer winced in sympathy. "Take as deep a breath as you can, Em." She instructed.

Emily tried to inhale but managed only a few quick, jerky intakes of breath. "I can't...catch my...breath…" Emily panted with a shake of her head.

"Okay." Spencer laid a calming hand on her arm. "Just relax. I'm going to give you something for pain and then I'm going to wrap your ribs."

Emily could only nod, eyes tightly shut. The pain was searing and she could think of nothing else. She felt Spencer's hand against the side of her face urging her to open her mouth. She parted her lips to taste the sweet drops of Laudanum as they dribbled past her lips. She sighed as the pain eased slightly and her limbs felt light and detached.

"Toby, help me get her to the sofa." Spencer said and moved to one side of her, Toby on the other.

Despite the drugs the movement was excruciating and it felt, to Emily, like someone was sticking a hot poker between her ribs. She hissed in pain as Toby and Spencer eased her onto the sofa.

Emily started to lean back, the drugs, making her drowsy but Spencer caught her and sat her up. "Em, I need you to sit up for me for a bit. Can you do that?" Spencer removed a roll of heavy bandages from her bag, the same ones she carried around all the time for Paige.

Emily nodded slowly, licking her lips and struggling against heavy lids. She tried to focus on Spencer while to room tilted around her.

"Toby, can you make some tea?" Spencer asked, eyebrows raised. "I need to, uh,...I need a few minutes." She gestured to Emily.

"Oh, sure." Toby understood and disappeared into the kitchen.

Spencer sliced through the straps on Emily's shift with a scissor, cutting the thin material away from her. "I need you to raise your arms for me, Em." Spencer helped move her arms aways from her sides. "I know it hurts. I'll be quick."

Emily groaned and held her arms from her sides while Spencer, skillfully, wound the bandages snugly around her ribs, beneath her breasts, pinning them in place. "Okay, Sweetie, I'm done." Spencer helped her slip her arms back through the sleeves of her blouse and fastened a few buttons to cover her. "You can lay back now."

Emily sighed and dropped back slowly against the sofa, her eyes sliding closed.

* * *

Emily's father banged through the front door before Spencer had finished her tea and telling Toby what had happened after they all parted ways. "Where is she?" He demanded.

"Dad…" Emily rasped from where she sat. She cracked an eye as he knelt down next to her on the floor.

"What happened, Baby?" He said and gripped her hand.

Emily shook her head. "There was someone...in the house…" She murmured.

The Marshal looked to Spencer and Toby. "We don't know who." Spencer began. "But we think it's the same person who ransacked Hanna's shop and the clinic tonight."

Emily hadn't heard this yet and it cut through her drug induced haze. She sat up with a groan of pain, clutching her side. "What…."

"Emmy, don't move." Her father ordered. "Is anyone else hurt?"

"Hanna got a little banged up when Mona took a club to her thinking she was the intruder." Spencer explained. "She'll be fine. I left her with Caleb."

"It's probably also the same person who Emily thought she saw at the Rosewood earlier." Toby added. "After you left."

"So, the murderer." Emily offered weakly. "Here...in my house. In the clinic...in Hanna's shop…" She winced and gritted her teeth. "What the hell...is going on…" She frowned. "Who's with Paige?" She asked in a panic.

"Paige is fine, Baby." Her father assured her. "She's been asleep for hours. The deputies are there."

Emily sighed in relief. It was almost amusing to think that this one time Paige was the safest of all of them. That's not usually how their life played out. Emily was relieved for that and, for the first time, relieved that Paige was in that cell, where no one could get to her.

Emily's father rose from where he was crouched next to his daughter and nodded to Spencer and Toby. "Let's talk in the kitchen." He said.

Emily's eyes cracked open. "No." She murmured and reached, weakly for her father's hand. "I need to hear."

The Marshal looked to Spencer who merely shrugged her assent. There was no reason for Emily not to be a part of the conversation as much as she could be.

Toby and the Marshal settled into the chairs and Spencer sat, carefully, next to Emily so as not to jostle her. Her eyes were closed but Spencer could tell she wasn't asleep from the tension of pain on her face.

The conversation drifted around Emily in waves and she could only focus on it for small snatches of time before either a twinge of pain or wave of drowsiness overcame her. Spencer and Caleb were recounting their conversation from earlier and talking about having searched Ali's room again.

"And you found nothing?" Her father's deep voice rumbled.

"No." Spencer answered frustrated. "But, obviously, whatever it is is out there somewhere."

"And you think it might be money related?" Her father probed. "A bad debt?"

"There have been stupider things people have killed over." Toby replied.

"I don't know…" Spencer hedged. "Something about that just doesn't feel right to me."

"What?" Her father asked.

"It's just...I don't know…" Spencer sounded uncharacteristically hesitant. "Alison's injuries...it was so brutal and all to her face and head. That just seems so personal...so passionate...and I don't mean that in a good way." She paused in thought. "According to my father's exam there wasn't another mark on her except for a couple of small old scars and a birthmark on her hip."

They continued on in that thread and Emily frowned and opened her eyes with effort. Something wasn't right and she reached for Spencer's hand. "Spence…" She mumbled and rolled her head toward her.

Spencer gripped her hand. "What is it, Em? Do you want something more for pain?"

"No." Emily breathed and shook her head. "Ali didn't….have a...birthmark." She managed.

"She did." Spencer said gently. "I saw it, too. The size of a half dollar on her right hip."

Emily licked her lips and tried to focus and clear her head. "No. She didn't. I've seen her, many times. There is no birthmark." She said as firmly as she could and looked between them. "I promise you." She finished.

Spencer looked quizzically between Toby and Marshal Fields. "But…that can't be right…"

The Marshal sat forward, frowning hard, his fingers steepled in front of his face. "Dear, God." He breathed.

"Who identified her body?" Emily asked and tried to sit up straighter.

"No one." Her father shrugged, helplessly. "And everyone. A young blonde woman was found dead in Alison DiLaurentis' room. Who else would it have been?" He felt like he could laugh at the absurdity of it. "We need to know for sure." He said and pushed himself to his feet.

Spencer met his eyes and gave a sharp shake of her head. "Not right now we don't." She knew the only one of them that could positively identify the body as Alison was Emily and she wasn't going anywhere at the moment.

The Marshal gritted his teeth in silent frustration. He knew he couldn't ask his daughter to ride back into town with him even though he knew she would agree without a second thought. "Alright." He agreed. "After you all get some rest get Emily to the clinic later and I'll make arrangements with the undertaker to see the body."

Emily never heard the rest of the conversation as exhaustion, pain and drugs finally wrapped around her in a hold she couldn't break.

* * *

Emily woke her lids heavy, her limbs more so. Her head pounded and her body ached. The sounds of someone moving around the kitchen bringing her slowly to awareness. She could smell coffee and, as she inhaled, a sharp pain in her side, wringing a groan from deep within her, reminded her of the attack last night.

She lay still and tried to breathe slowly through the pain. She was on the sofa, a blanket tucked around her and the fire crackling in the hearth warmed the room.

"Emily." Spencer sat down on the sofa next to her and set a cup of coffee on the table. "How do you feel?"

Emily took another deep breath with more success. "Like I got pushed down a flight of stairs, I think." She said with a wince.

"Hmmm." Spencer replied with a smile. "Funny how that works." Spencer glanced to the table. "I have coffee. Do you want to try and sit up?"

Emily nodded and moved to get her arms under her. Spencer helped her swing her legs to the floor and straighten against the back of the sofa watching her carefully. Emily's face was pinched with pain at the effort.

Spencer reached for her kit and removed her stethoscope, snapping in the ear pieces and slipping the chest piece beneath Emily's shirt. "Just breathe normally."

Emily concentrated and tried to relax. "It's hard." Her breath came out in short hitches.

Spencer pulled the stethoscope from her ears. "I know, but it's important you fill your lungs or you risk collapse or pneumonia or-"

"I understand." Emily cut her off. "Pass me that coffee."

Spencer handed her the cup. "I made some food, too." She rose and headed back to the kitchen

Emily sipped her coffee and shook her head. "I don't think I can eat."

"Well, rethink that because we're not going anywhere until you eat something." Spencer returned with a plate of eggs and toast, taking the coffee from Emily and replacing it with the plate of food.

Emily sighed and picked up the fork. After the first bit she realized how hungry she was and cleared the plate under Spencer's watchful gaze. "What time is it?" She asked around the last mouth full.

"After 8:00" Spencer answered and rose to to get the pot of warm water and cloth from the woodstove. She set it on the table. "You'll feel better after you wash up. I'll get you some clothes and help you get dressed and we'll go into town." She disappeared up the stairs.

Emily gritted her teeth against the pain, her arms wrapped around her middle trying to lessen the jostling against her ribs as they bumped their way down the icy track. She had agreed to more Laudanum, just enough to take the edge off as she wanted to be as clear headed as possible, but wished for more as they bounced in and out of one deep rut after another and she bit down on a groan.

"How are you doing?" Spencer asked as they rolled up in front of the clinic.

Emily winced as they came to a stop. "Hurts." She said.

"Let me help you." Spencer dropped down and came around to Emily's side and reached for her hand.

Emily eased her way off the bench and out of the carriage, jaw clenched against the pain. Spencer guided her into the clinic and sat her down on a chair in the waiting room. She hurried back through the rooms, still in shambles from the search, looking for her father. She frowned at his continued absence.

Spencer returned to find Emily leafing through Great Expectations from Ali's room. She looked pensive and far away. "Em?" Spencer called.

"Hmm?" Emily looked up.

"I'm going to get your father. Will you be alright here?" She asked.

"Yes, fine." Emily answered turning back to the book. "Go."

Spencer walked in to the office without knocking. The Marshal was giving his deputies directions, both of them nodding in unison to whatever he was telling them. When he was finished Deputy Ackard scooted out the door, tipping his hat to her on the way by and Deputy Campbell settled behind the desk.

The Marshal turned to her. "How's Emily?"

"She's hurting." She pressed her lips together. "If this were a normal situation I'd insist she be in bed for a few days."

The Marshal grimaced. He hated putting Emily through this. This whole situation had been a complete nightmare for everyone, for Emily and Paige in particular. He needed to end this before it got further out of control and, for that, he needed Emily.

"How's Paige?" Spencer asked snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Still sleeping." He answered and nodded to his deputy. "Andrew is going to stay and keep an eye out and get her something to eat when she wakes up."

"Good." Spencer replied. "She needs it. I'll check on her later." She turned for the door. "Let's get this over with."

Emily flipped to the back cover of the book, eyes widening as she recognized her own handwriting. She had forgotten she had written an inscription. _Because I care and I know you do, too. _was all it said. She ran her hands over the words remembering Alison, believing she wasn't cold and thoughtless as she pretended to be. If Emily had really thought that she never would have been able to be with her, in any way.

She smoothed her fingers over the paper again, feeling along the edge of something beneath the lining. She traced along its shape and made a rectangle thicker than the surrounding paper. She began to pick at the edge of the paper lining with her fingernail, teasing up a corner.

"Ready to go, Baby?" He father asked.

She jumped in alarm, slamming the book closed and a hand going to her chest. She hadn't heard him come in. She dropped the book back in her coat pocket and refocused on what they were about to do

* * *

**Ahhhh, feeling the love! Thanks for letting me know you're all still out there. Special shout out to Waterbug86 for taking time out of critical study hours to R/R. I caution you though, don't put too much thought into the mystery because, like the show, none of it will truly make sense if you look at it too closely.**

**As ever, thank you for reading and I hope you continue to enjoy! And no, Guest Reviewer "J" I do not mind if you want to post links to the story and I agree with your sage advice. It's crossed my mind as well.  
**


	17. Chapter 17

They picked up Hanna on the way back to the clinic. She needed to see this, too. Hanna remained nervously silent, walking close by Emily's side in case she needed help, as the four of them trudged their way through the snow to the undertakers on the outside of town.

The man was tall, thin and cadaverous looking, as was appropriate for to his profession. Spencer wondered if he had always looked like that or if he had grown into his work as the years passed by. His name was Mr. Graves and Hanna barely stifled a hysterical laugh at the introduction

He led them to around to the back of his house to a well built outbuilding where he housed the bodies awaiting burial in the spring. Through the cold kept the worst of the decomposition as bay the air around the building still smelt damp and decayed.

The room was dark and as Mr. Graves lit a lantern the contents of the room came to view. Long narrow shelves lined the walls, like bunks, one above the other. A rope and pulley system hung from the ceiling to help raise and lower the bodies on the top bunks.

Spencer looked around. There were four shrouded bodies. One of them Alison, maybe, and the others she could guess at their identities, knowing more about the health of the townspeople than anyone, save her father.

Mr. Graves, thankfully, led them to a lower bunk. The body was smaller than the others, smaller even than Spencer remembered from the other day.

"Thank you." The Marshal said when it appeared as Mr. Graves intended to remain. "We'll only be a few minutes. We'll leave everything as we found it."

The Undertaker nodded, without speaking, and returned to the main house.

"Mr. Graves?" Hanna blurted when he left. "Is that a joke?" She laughed nervously.

"Hanna, hush." Spencer admonished.

"Why?" She shot back. "Are you afraid I'm going to wake someone?"

"Hanna, please." Emily said, hugging her arms across her chest part in pain and part in comfort.

Spencer moved to the body and began to unwrap the shroud. She tugged on the sheet and a pale, stiff arm came free, dangling over the side.

"Jesus!" Hanna gasped and jumped back, her hand covering her mouth.

Spencer continued to work at the sheet, unwinding the folds from across the legs and torso. She she left the head covered as much as possible. There was no more blood. That had been cleaned up and, she suspected, the wounds closed to a degree but she still wanted to spare Emily and Hanna from seeing the ruined face.

She stepped back as the coverings over the body fell away revealing the pale, sunken body. The pink discoloration of the birthmark had faded but was still clearly visible on the right hip.

Emily sucked in a breath, wincing, as she stepped forward, eyes wide. She raised her hand, as if to touch the mark but pulled back before her fingers brushed against the cold, lifeless skin. She looked along the rest of the body briefly before tightly closing her eyes in confusion and relief. She thought, maybe for a moment, she was wrong about the birthmark, but she knew Alison's body and this wasn't her. Her heart thudded in her chest. "It's not her." She breathed.

Marshal Fields clenched his jaw. "Are you sure?"

Emily turned from the body, her eyes bright and wide. "I'm sure." She said more strongly. "This isn't Alison."

He frowned. "Then who the hell-"

"Cece Drake." Hanna blurted.

They all turned to Hanna, mouths agape.

"It has to be." Hanna said. "She came to see Ali. Paige saw her upstairs at the Rosewood the night Ali died...or...the night...you know what I mean. Then Cece just disappeared."

"I thought she checked out of the hotel." The Marshal questioned.

"No one saw her." Emily added. "Anyone could have left the money and key at the desk."

"Anyone who wanted everyone to think Alison was dead." Spencer added.

"Like the killer?" Hanna asked.

"Or like Alison." Spencer replied. "If she knew someone was trying to kill her wouldn't letting everyone think you were already dead be a pretty good way of staying safe?"

"Oh, Christ." The Marshal mumbled, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

"Let's get out of here." Spencer said as she carefully shrouded the body again. They left without speaking again with the Undertaker.

* * *

They settled back into the waiting room at the clinic. Spencer disappeared and returned again with a pot of coffee and four cups between her fingers. She poured and they all sat, hands wrapped around the warm mugs to try and dispel the chill that was not just about the cold.

"Alison's alive." Hanna muttered again. "I don't how feel about that."

Spencer eyed her curiously. She felt similarly but wasn't going to say anything. "What do you mean?" She asked.

Hanna shook her head. "I don't know, really." She sighed. "I mean, I'm glad she's alive but where has she been? How come she didn't come to us? Or to the Marshal? Maybe we could have figured this out sooner and Emily wouldn't have been hurt and Paige…." She trailed off, gritting her teeth in anger.

Emily was only half listening to the conversation going on around her. She had pulled the book back out and was picking again at the back cover.

"Emily?" Her father asked as he watched her fumbling with the book. "What is that?"

Emily ignored him as she got a grip on the corner of the page and ripped the lining off. Several small, thin pages fluttered out and scattered across the floor. They all reached to pick them up, studying them carefully.

"What is this?" Hanna asked unsure what she was looking at.

The Marshal frowned and the list of names with a dollar amount next to them. The same dollar amount. "These are townspeople." He answered.

"Wealthy townspeople." Spencer added as she studied the page she held. She saw Hackett Fitzgerald, Hastings and many other names she recognized of profitable business and landowners.

"This is Alison's handwriting." Emily added frowning at the page in her hand. She looked around the floor. There was still a page that hadn't been picked up. She reached for it and gasped, clutching her side in pain.

"I got it, Em." Spencer said and picked up the paper. "What is I.T. Investments?' She held up the paper.

"Ian Thomas?" Emily said after a moment of thought.

Hanna snorted. "Not very clever of him is it?"

"What is this?" Emily asked. "A ledger of his investors? All these people invested $50 with him? Why would Alison even have this?"

"Was she involved in some business deal with him?" Spencer asked. "Something that went bad? Something worth killing over?"

"Maybe it was a scam?" Hanna suggested. "$50 isn't a lot of money to each of the people individually but you add up all this money and I'd say Ian Thomas is doing pretty well for himself. Even if he was only collecting interest on it this would still be a tidy sum."

"And Alison knew about it" Emily offered.

The Marshal stood. "Only one way to find out for sure."

"You're going after Ian Thomas?" Spencer asked. "For Alison's murder?"

"Ali's not dead." Hanna murmured.

Spencer glared at her. "You know what I mean."

The Marshal nodded. "I don't have any hard evidence linking him to the murder. But if I let him know I'm on to his embezzlement scam, or whatever it is, I bet he'll crumble." He collected the pages from them. "If this is him. If this is what he was looking for I also have him on trespassing, destruction of property…" He eyed Emily. "...and assault. He'll be going to prison regardless. In the meantime, can I trust you three to stay here and stay out of trouble?"

Emily, Hanna and Spencer looked to each other but remained silent. None of them, apparently, was able to make that promise.

The Marshal sighed and shook his head. This would be over soon. He would find Ian Thomas and wring to truth out of him. "At least look out for each other." He said before stalking out the door.

"I need to see Paige." Emily said as soon as her father left

Spencer nodded. "I'll take you. Hanna you should come, too."

Hanna shook her head. "I'll meet you two back here in a bit. I need to stop by shop and check on Mona and see how the clean-up is going."

* * *

Paige woke with a start when she heard the door to her cell being unlocked. She sat up, blearily, and focused on Deputy Campbell coming in to her cell. He held a plate of food covered in a white linen napkin, a cup of steaming coffee balanced carefully on top.

"Rise and shine." He said, not unkindly.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Late morning." Came the vague answer and she decided not letting prisoners know what time it was must be some sort of torture technique. For all she knew she could have been asleep for days and it was maddening.

Paige scrubbed at her face and took stock of herself. She felt better. She must have slept for nearly twelve hours. Her chills here gone and even her aches had eased for the rest. She was ravenously hungry and had to work to keep herself from snatching the plate of food out of his hands when he offered it to her.

She took the coffee cup and set it on the bunk before peeling the cloth off the plate. It was piled high with herbed potatoes, eggs, ham, cornbread and beans still hot and smelling delicious served on a delicate porcelain plate. Not, obviously, from the Rosewood. She, idly, wondered as to the occasion. "This isn't my last meal is it?" She asked only half joking.

She had shoveled several fork fulls of food into her mouth, her cheeks puffing out to contain it, when she noticed the Deputy was still standing there watching her eat. "What?" She asked, finally managing to swallow the bite and form a word.

He hooked his thumbs into his belt and rocked back and forth from his heels to his toes, remaining silent.

She shrugged and went back to the plate, getting through another bite of egg and potato before, at last, he spoke.

"Thought you should know." He began. "There was an intruder last night at Miss Marin's dress shop and the Hastings' Clinic."

Paige froze, the fork halfway to her lips, her food forgotten. "What?" She breathed, looking at him wide eyed.

He nodded. "He also hit the Fields' ranch." He added.

Paige jerked up off the bench, the plate tipping to the floor and shattering, food spraying across the floor. "What happened? Was Emily there? Is she alright?" She took a step toward the Deputy in panic.

He stepped back mistaking her worry and anger for aggression. "Stay where you are!" He snapped at her and backed out of the cell, closing and locking it before she reached the door.

"Wait!" She yelled in panic, gripping the bars. "Tell me what happened!" She begged. "Is Emily okay? Where is the Marshal?"

"I don't know much more." Deputy Campbell said from the safety of the other side of the cell door. "The Marshal's daughter walked in on the intruder and she was attacked."

Paige's vision narrowed to a pinpoint and the air was sucked from her lungs like she had been punched in the gut. "Oh, God…" She choked out.

The Deputy, seeing her stricken expression, took pity on her. "I haven't seen her but I hear she's going to be okay. She's in town with the Marshal now."

Paige sagged against the bars in relief, dropping her head against the cool iron with a strangled sound. She had to get out of here.

The Deputy looked worried. "I didn't tell you to...I don't know...provoke you. I know you and the Marshal's daughter are...I just thought you should know." He grimaced. He should never have said anything. The Marshal asked him to look out for the prisoner not push her over the edge. He hurried back down the hall to the office before his did anything else that could get him into trouble.

Paige heard the door close and lock behind him and shuddered. She was alone again, tense and panicked. Why hadn't anyone come to see her? Her head pounded and her vision blurred. Paige staggered back to the bunk and sat down hard, her heart racing.

Something was wrong. A sheen of sweat broke out across her face and neck and the room tilted. She needed help. She rose and lurched to the cell door, gripping hard to the bars to keep herself upright and called for the Deputy. Her voice was weak and shaky. She tried to swallow but her mouth and throat had gone dry and she could only rasp out another call for help before collapsing to the ground, jaw clenched, her whole body convulsing painfully.


	18. Chapter 18

Emily and Spencer entered the office to find Deputy Campbell sitting at the desk, his head in his hands. He looked up when they came in, his eyes going wide.

"Emily, you're here?" He said.

"Yes." Emily forced a smile. "Is something wrong?" The deputy seemed anxious.

"Um, no." He glanced to Spencer then to the door. "Is the Marshal with you?" He asked nervously. He was certain he was going to be torn in strips for speaking with the prisoner. He thought, for sure, the Marshal already knew what had happened.

"No." Spencer said eying Andrew. "We just left him. He sent me to check on Paige." She lied.

"Oh, um." The Deputy shuffled his feet. "I'm not sure-"

"You don't really want to defy Marshal Fields orders do you?" Spencer interrupted.

He most certainly did not. "Of course not." He fumbled for his keys and unlocked the door. "Let me just walk you back."

They reached her cell and saw Paige lying on her back, rigid, her hands clawed and the muscles in her neck standing out as her teeth clenched and she struggled to breathe, a strangled sound coming from deep in her throat.

"Oh, Jesus." Spencer gasped and rushed in as soon as Andrew got the door open. "Paige!" She called to her as she took her pulse. Her heart was racing and sweat dripped down her face and neck. Spencer pried her eyes open one at a time and sucked in a breath. Her pupils were dilated so large her eyes were totally black.

"Spencer!" Emily cried from the doorway. "What's wrong with her?" She tried to get closer to her but gasped in pain as her injury prevented her from crouching to the ground. Emily hovered over them in a panic. "Spencer." She pleaded again.

"I don't know." Spencer looked at Paige as her body seemed to relax briefly, allowing her to take a breath before she convulsed again, her back arching unnaturally, her eyes rolling wildly. Spencer thought frantically, racing heart, dilated pupils, convulsions, sweating. Her eyes scanned the cell and came to rest on the shattered plate and food on the floor by the cot.

"Jesus, oh, Jesus." Spencer breathed as she grabbed for her medical kit and tore it apart looking for what she needed. She pulled out a brown bottle and, shakily, unscrewed the cap. "Andrew get in here and help me get her mouth open." Spencer barked. "Where did this food come from?" She demanded when he stepped into the cell.

"Um, the hotel." He replied in a panicky voice. "The Rosewood wasn't open." He explained.

"Spencer what is it?" Emily cried, a hand covering her mouth. "What's going on?"

"I can't be sure." Spencer answered as the Deputy forced Paige's clenched jaw open and Spencer poured the contents of the bottle into her mouth, lifting her head to get her to swallow. "I think she's been poisoned."

"Poison?" Emily repeated, the color draining from her face. "With what?"

"Nightshade, I think." Spencer answered, distractedly, and rolled Paige onto her side as she began to vomit violently. The deputy leapt out of the way just in time.

"Is that an antidote?" Emily asked, tears beginning to fall.

"There is no antidote." Spencer said as Paige's convulsions eased again and she was able to clear her airway with her fingers to prevent her aspirating vomit. "It's an emetic." Spencer looked up the Deputy. "We need to get her to the clinic so I can treat her".

Deputy Campbell hesitated. She was in jail for murder. He couldn't just let her go.

"Now, Andrew!" Spencer ordered. "Or she's going to die!"

* * *

"Mona!" Hanna screamed as she entered the shop. "Get out here!"

Mona came running out from the back room. "Oh, my, God, Hanna! What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"You're damn right something happened." Hanna raged at her. "I know Alison's not dead and I know you know where she is so you better start talking before I find a wooden club of my own." She finished, the whole time advancing on the smaller woman until she was backed up against the wall.

"I don't...I don't know what you're….talking about." Mona stammered.

"The hell you don't!" Hanna yelled furiously. "Tell me where she is!"

Mona blinked at her in fear for a moment before sagging back against the wall, her eyes sliding closed. "The attic." She murmured.

Hanna's eyes narrowed. "What attic?" She snapped.

Mona gave her hesitant smile. "Your attic."

Hanna jerked back in surprise. "What?" She raised her head and looked up as if she could stare through the ceiling before tearing off through into the back room.

She struggled dropping down the stairs with only one arm. "Mona, get back here and help me!" She shouted.

Mona appeared and together they lowered the stairs and Hanna climbed, gingerly, up into the attic space she used for storage. She hardly ever went up here which, she supposed, made it a good place to hide out.

The space wasn't tall enough to stand upright so she stood, crouched, at the top of the stairs until Mona appeared with a lantern.

Hanna was too furious to be nervous. She swung the lantern back and forth. "Alison, get out here!" She barked as she swept her eyes across the space she had clearly been living. There was a pile of blankets, an ewer of water and a chamber pot. Her eyes narrowed at a bottle of whiskey, almost empty in the corner.

"Goddammit, Alison!" She screamed. "Don't you dare hide from me! My friends are hurt or locked up and there is a murderer running around town looking for you. You better get out here and make this right, right now!"

Mona came around a pile of boxes in the back looking alarmed and fearful. "She's not hear, Hanna." She said shakily.

"What do you mean she's not here?" Hanna asked in disbelief.

Mona shrugged, nervously. "I mean she was here. She's been hiding out here but now she's gone."

"Gone." Hanna's voice was low and dangerous. "Gone where?"

* * *

Spencer threw open the door to the clinic and directed the Deputy, Paige in his arms, to come all the way back into the recovery room. If someone came in she didn't want Paige out front. Because of the severity of her convulsions she also wanted her on something softer so she wouldn't injure herself.

"Hold her down!" Spencer barked at him as she disappeared to collect everything she thought she would need to treat Paige. Andrew, at least, had been able to tell her it had only been a few minutes since he had left Paige in her cell so she thought she had caught her in time.

She came back in and Andrew was leaning over Paige's writhing body, pressing her onto the bed. Paige was starting to hallucinate, now,mumbling incoherently about stock prices and poker hands.

Spencer tore a sheet into long strips wrapping one end snugly around each of Paige's wrists and ankles and securing the other ends to the bed frame.

"What are you doing?" The Deputy asked.

"Enough poison is already in her system and it's going to have to run its course." She checked Paige's restraints to make sure she was secure but wouldn't hurt herself. "You've already seen the convulsions. Next come the hallucinations and there's no telling what form the may take."

The Deputy looked uncomfortable. "I need to tell the Marshal what's happened." He said.

"Yes." Spencer agreed. "Do that and send him over here right away."

He hesitated. "I shouldn't leave you-"

Spencer looked up at him sharply. "Go. Now. She's not a threat to anyone but herself right now." She said to placate him.

He nodded once and disappeared out the door.

Emily caught up with with them, passing Andrew Campbell on his way out, her cracked rib making it impossible to keep with the blistering pace Andrew and Spencer set to get Paige here. She hovered in the doorway, her hands going to her mouth, as she watched Paige writhe and strain against the restraints Spencer had her in.

Paige's eyes flew open and she screamed as if the hounds of hell were after her, which for all they knew, in her mind they were and she thrashed wildly against the bed.

Spencer soaked a rag in ether and placed it over Paige's mouth and nose. It was risky, she knew, her nervous system was already being short circuited from the poison but she needed her still and relaxed for a few minutes to get through what she needed to do.

Paige strained weakly for another moment, her hands clenched, before she dropped back against the bed. Spencer wasted no time and tipped her head back, threading a long, flexible rubber tube down her throat. When she thought she had it in place she snapped out her stethoscope, slipping the diaphragm under her shirt along her abdomen, ensuring the tube was in her stomach not her lungs.

She was satisfied and attached the tube to a metal pump. She slowly filled Paige's stomach with saline water, siphoning it back out with suction into a bowl on the floor. She repeated this several times until she was sure she had flushed out everything she could.

Paige's eyelids began to flutter and she started to gag at the tube in her mouth. It would have to be good enough. Spencer couldn't put her under again. She eased the tube out of Paige's mouth as she coughed and gagged around it.

Emily watched, horrified, as Spencer pumped Paige's stomach. The effects of the ether were wearing off and Paige was getting agitated again, jerking at her wrists, trying to get free. She was cursing and shouting for someone to get off her, to let her go.

Spencer leaned down and checked Paige's pulse again. It was still dangerously rapid. She lifted her lids to see her pupils still dilated. The toxin was still working its way through her. There was nothing more she could do.

"Will she be alright?" Emily asked, shakily, from the doorway. She thought, briefly, if she had a dollar for every time she had to ask that question she'd never have to work a day in her life.

"I think we got to her in time." Spencer answered. "She's just going to have to ride it out, now."

Emily moved into the room. "What can I do?"

Spencer pulled up a chair alongside Paige's bed. "Sit." She instructed. She reached into her bag and handed Emily a thick leather strap about six inches long and two wide. "If she's starts to convulse again get this in her mouth so she doesn't bite her tongue and call me."

* * *

Hanna glared at Mona. "Downstairs now!" She snapped.

Hanna picked her way back down the stairs and waited impatiently for Mona to come down. She seemed to be taking her sweet time as she tiptoed down and folded the steps back into the ceiling before turning around to face Hanna.

"Hanna." Mona began and out her hand up. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't!" Hanna cut her off. "I don't have time for your apologies right now, Mona. You need to tell me what's going on." Hanna pinned her with a look. "Everything you know. From the beginning." She added.

Mona sighed and nodded. She had hated keeping this secret from Hanna, anyway. "A while ago Alison started receiving threatening notes. She didn't know who was sending them."

"Threatening how?" Hanna needed more details.

Mona shrugged. "The usual spiteful stuff. Slut, Homewrecker, Whore. It wasn't anything she hadn't heard before and she didn't take them seriously."

"But?" Hanna prodded.

"But they started turning darker. Threatening to hurt her if she didn't repent, change her wicked ways and release the hold she had on the town." Mona explained. "She started to get nervous. She wanted to try and find out who was behind it but she couldn't very well ask around herself so she wrote to a friend of hers back east. Someone who owed her a favor."

Hanna nodded in understanding. "Cece Drake."

"Yes." Mona agreed. "Cece came out. The plan was for her to get to know the town without letting anyone know she was Ali's friend and do a little snooping of her own to try and get to the bottom of this."

"What happened?" Hanna asked. "How did she end up in Ali's room?"

Mona shrugged. "The usual way. Like I said they were old friends. Ali ducked out later to come and meet me." Mona hugged herself as she remembered. "We went back to her room to get Cece and that's when we found her."

"So whoever it is made good on their threat." Hanna summed up. "The problem was it wasn't Ali they killed."

"Well, it wasn't a problem for Ali." She said dryly. "Anyway, Ali gathered up Cece's things, her dress, room key and purse and told me to go to the hotel and put it all in her room. Leave money on the desk with the key and a note saying she checked out."

Hanna considered this. "Then all Ali needed was a place to hide."

"That's right." Mona nodded. "And I thought here would be good."

"So what were you doing in her room the night Caleb and I found you?" Hanna asked.

"I needed to pick up some things for her." Mona said vaguely.

"The book." Hanna said.

Mona blinked at her. "What book? I went back to get her some cash and jewelry. That's when I saw the room was trashed."

"Wait." Hanna shook her head. "The room wasn't like that when you found the body?" Now she was confused.

"No." Mona said. "I told Ali about it but she just brushed me off. She said she didn't have time to worry about that but needed to work on getting out of town."

Hanna's head was spinning. If Ian Thomas was the one looking for the ledger pages but he didn't ransack the room until long after Cece was dead then, it stood to reason, he didn't kill her. There was someone else. The Marshal was going to arrest Ian Thomas for the murder and the real killer would know, for sure, that the Marshal was onto them. Ian Thomas might even know who the real killer is. This was bad. She had to find Marshal Fields and tell him.

* * *

**Whoa!**


	19. Chapter 19

Marshal Fields stepped down the steps from the bank. Ian Thomas wasn't there either. He had already been to the man's house. There weren't many places in the town the man could go. He supposed he could be staying with someone but he figured he'd rule out the obvious places first.

He dropped onto the boardwalk and headed to the hotel. The man would have to be an idiot to lay low at the most popular hotel in town but Ian Thomas hadn't exactly proved his smarts by possibly swindling his clients' money. He figured it couldn't hurt to check.

The Marshal rang the bell on the counter for service when no one was behind the desk. The door to the Hackett's private apartment opened and Carter Hackett stepped through.

"Marshal." He said with surprise. "What can I do for you?"

The Marshal pitched his voice low so as not to be overheard. It was a nice day and the townspeople were taking advantage and the dining room was full this afternoon. "I'm looking for Ian Thomas." He said.

Carter Hackett's eyes rose in interest. "Oh?" He said. "I haven't seen him yet today."

The Marshal thought this was a strange way to answer. "Do you usually see him?"

"Sure." Hackett answered. "He's been staying here a couple of days until the work is done on his roof."

The Marshal frowned. No work was being done at Ian Thomas's house. "I need to see him now. What room is he in?"

"Um, I really shouldn't provide that…" He trailed off as the Marshal scowled at him fiercely. He pulled out the record book and scanned the pages. "Room 12." He finished.

The Marshal took the stairs to the second floor two at a time. He headed down the hall to Ian Thomas's room. It was the last on the left. He knocked loudly and the door creaked open under his fist.

The Marshal drew his revolver and stepped slowly into the room, weapon at the ready. He could smell the blood before he saw the body. Ian Thomas lay at the foot of the bed, the hilt of a knife protruding from his chest, one hand wrapped around it, the other flung out to the side.

His skin was colorless, the pool of blood beneath him radiating out in all directions. The Marshal crouched, carefully to avoid disturbing anything to check his pulse. Nothing. He looked like he had been dead for hours but the Doc could tell for sure.

He stood and looked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place. There was a small case on the bed containing a change of clothes and some personal items. He swept the room at a glance and his eyes landed on the bedside table where a single piece of paper lay. He read it without touching it. "I'm sorry." is all it said.

The Marshal frowned. A suicide? There were no signs of a struggle, no apparent defensive wounds. Ian Thomas was a big man. It was hard for him to imagine letting someone get close enough to him to stab him in the heart. He wanted to believe it was that simple and this could all be over.

He needed to get back to his office and gather his deputies and find Doc Hastings. He left the room and closed the door, locking it behind him so no one else stumbled on the body. He could get the key later.

He bounded back down the stairs and nearly crashed into Hanna Marin. He grabbed her around the waist as she spun around off balance.

"Marshal Fields." She gasped when she had regained her footing. "I've been looking for you."

"I'm sorry, Hanna, I can't talk now." He moved to go around her.

She gripped his arm. "This is important." She hissed. "It's about Ian Thomas."

The Marshal stepped back toward her and moved close. "Ian Thomas isn't going to be a problem anymore." He replied under his breath. "I just found his body." Without another word he was out the door.

Hanna stood, mouth agape at the news before she realized it didn't matter. Ian Thomas wasn't the murderer but the Marshal was already gone. Maybe she would just wait here for him to come back. She leaned back against the reception desk and propped her arm up. Her elbow hit the bell and it dinged loudly.

Hanna watched to door to the Hackett's apartment open and looked through to their rooms as Carter Hackett stepped out. He left the door open and smiled broadly at her as he approached the counter. "What can I do for you, Miss?"

Hanna stared back through the door. She had a clear view of the mantle above the fireplace and on it were two solid silver candlesticks. "No way." She breathed.

"Miss?" Carter Hackett looked back over his shoulder to see what was so interesting. "Is everything alright?" He asked as he turned back around to face her.

"Um, yes," Hanna snapped herself out of her daze. "Sorry, I just couldn't help admire the candlesticks on your mantle." She said nervously realizing that she could be talking to a murderer.

"Oh, yes," Hackett beamed at her. "My wife just got those the other day. They came on the train from the estate of a dead friend. Lovely, aren't they?"

"Oh, how nice." Hanna forced a smile. His wife? The same woman who wore the abandoned dress of a customer the very next day. A dead customer as it turns out. Her mind flashed to what Mona had told her about the threatening letters with the name calling and the taunts. Homewrecker. It didn't jump out at her the first time but that's not something a man would likely say to a woman. It was the rage of a jealous wife.

"Um, where is your wife now, Mr. Hackett?" Hanna asked shakily. "I'd sure like to ask her about those candlesticks."

"Oh, she'd love that." The man replied. "She's very proud of them. But I'm afraid she's stepped out to an appointment at the clinic. Female troubles." He finished with a wink.

Hanna smiled sickly. "Thank you." She choked out before rushing out the door.

"I'll tell her you stopped by" Hackett called after her.

Hanna bolted down the street. She didn't have time to get the Marshal but had to warn Spencer and Emily. She saw Mrs. Hackett ahead of her nearing the side entrance to the clinic. Her dark cloak billowed out around her and Hanna could see she was wearing the dress again. That Bitch.

She didn't want to go in the front door. Maybe she was just going in for an appointment. She ran farther up the street and around to the back door. She could go in there and assess the situation. She hoped she wasn't making a mistake in delaying.

* * *

Emily sat next to Paige, gripping her hand and smoothing a cool cloth across her neck and chest. She had been delirious and incoherent for nearly an hour, struggling against the restraints and whatever demons were assaulting her in her hallucinations, thrashing violently before finally dropping back against the bed, her eyes closed to slits, her breathing shallow.

Spencer had checked on her often. Her heart rate was slowing but her pupils were still dilated. She thought the worst of his had passed but she was still very sick and would be for some time.

Spencer straightened from checking on Paige again and sighed, heavily. "I think we can take these off now." She reached and began to untie the cloth binding Paige's wrists.

"She'll recover?" Emily asked, worriedly.

Spencer nodded. "Yes, I believe so." She answered and moved around to the other side and untied Paige's other hand before releasing the ties at her ankles.

"Thank you, Spencer." Emily breathed and brought Paige's hand to her lips, tears falling softly against her pale skin.

Before Spencer could say anything else she heard a woman's voice call out from the other room. "I need to see who this is." She said. "I'll be back in a minute." She disappeared out the door.

Emily turned back to Paige, looking up sharply as Hanna slipped in through the back of the room, flushed and breathless, looking around wildly.

"Hanna?" Emily said. "What-"

Hanna put a hand to her lips to quiet her. "Shhhhh." She looked worriedly at Paige. "What happened?" she whispered frantically and shook her head. "Nevermind, there's no time." Hanna heard the voices from the waiting room. Spencer and Mrs. Hackett.

"Hanna, what's going on?" Emily hissed.

"It's Mrs. Hackett!" She shouted in a whisper. "She killed Ali...Cece...and she's here now." Hanna glanced to Paige then back through the door. "You have to get out of here. Take Paige." She commanded.

Emily blinked at her. "I don't understand."

Hanna began to to pull at Paige with one arm to get her sitting up. She struggled out of the sling, stripping off her coat and tried to wrestle Paige into it. "Help me!"

Emily didn't know what was going on but Hanna's urgency and fear infused her with adrenaline. She jumped and helped get Hanna's coat on Paige, fastening the buttons.

Paige groaned as she was jerked up and felt hands pulling at her. Her head pounded and her mouth was so dry. She wanted to speak but her tongue felt thick in her mouth. She wanted to push at the hands but she was too weak. She tried to crack her eyes open but the light was so bright her eyes instantly burned and watered.

Emily felt Paige coming around and tried to bring her to consciousness. "Paige, we have to go." She whispered.

"Em…" Paige rasped at the sound of her voice.

"We have to go, Honey, and you have to help me." Emily said urgently.

Hanna helped pull Paige to her feet and slung her arm over her shoulder. Emily took her arm on the other side and they half dragged, half carried her to the back door.

"Go!" Hanna breathed. "Get to the jail and find your father. Tell him it's Mrs. Hackett. He'll find the candlesticks in her apartment. She probably killed Ian Thomas, too."

Emily tried to follow what Hanna was saying but it was all too much. "You're not coming?" She asked, desperately.

Hanna shook her head. "I have to help Spencer." Hanna turned back to look inside as she heard Spencer's voice raised in anger. "Get out of here!" Hanna shouted at Emily.

Hanna raced back through the rooms slowing only as she came to the door to the exam room. She could hear Spencer was scared. "You don't want to do this, Mrs. Hackett." She said shakily.

Hanna risked a glance in and saw Spencer circling the exam table opposite the crazed woman who was brandishing a large knife. The woman lunged at Spencer, slashing out at her and Spencer shrieked in pain as the blade bit deeply into her shoulder.

Hanna glanced around for something to use as a weapon, her eyes falling to a large steel forceps on the floor that Spencer had yet to clean up from last night's raid. Not a sharp edge to be found but she hefted it. It was heavy. She looked out again to see Mrs. Hackett, her back to her, standing menacingly over Spencer with the knife.

"You meddling little witches!" She woman shrieked at Spencer as Hanna burst out of the recovery room and clubbed her on the back of the head with the instrument.

The woman staggered back with a scream of pain but didn't fall and didn't drop the knife as she clutched at the back of her head, bringing her hand forward to see the blood coating her fingertips. "You, Bitch!" She snarled.

Hanna moved to get between the woman and Spencer who stood, ashen and in shock, gripping her shoulder as blood seeped between her fingers.

"Spencer?" deep voice boomed from the waiting room. "Are you here?"

Hanna and Spencer whipped around to the sound of his voice.

"I'm sorry I've been gone so long. I had a complicated delivery out at the Maple's ranch." He explained as he walked into the exam room. His eyes swept the room. "What the hell?"

"Dad!" Spencer sagged with relief and he got an arm around her before she collapsed.

Hanna turned back to the room and gasped. Mrs. Hackett was gone.

* * *

Emily struggled under Paige's weight. Her ribs burned, bringing tears to her eyes as they made their way slowly down the back of the shops. Paige was barely conscious and could only limp along, dragging her feet. Emily's breath hitched in pain as Paige's legs buckled under her in the snow and they both went down hard. The hadn't even made it as far as the Rosewood.

Emily pushed herself to her knees, gripping her side in agony. She cried out in frustration as she pulled at Paige's limp form. "Paige, please." She begged. "You have to help me."

Emily heard footsteps in the snow behind her and whirled in panic at the sound. Her mouth hung open as Alison stood over her, mouth quirked in a sad smile. "Did you miss me?

Emily stared at her. "Ali?"

Alison crouched next to Paige and rolled her over, getting Paige's arm across her shoulders and hoisting her to her feet. "I've got her." She said. "She's close. We have to move."

* * *

**This is the part of our story that requires amazing skills in "suspension of disbelief" and a good sense of humor.**


	20. Chapter 20

Alison supported Paige as they continued on their way behind the buildings, Emily staggering along next to them, hunched in pain and breathing raggedly.

Alison paused at the foot of the stairs to the second floor of the saloon and considered the steep ascent. "I'm not going to be able to get her up the stairs." She said a little breathlessly. "If we get caught part way we're going to be in trouble. Let's keep going." She readjusted Paige's arm across her shoulders and moved off.

Emily tried to catch her breath, wincing in pain as they moved off again. She risked a glance over her shoulder and thought she could see a flash of movement. Her heart hammered in her chest. Where was her father? Where was anyone?

Alison toed open the back door of the the stable behind the Rosewood and dragged Paige inside to the first empty stall she found. Fortunately, it had been cleaned recently and the laid Paige down in the hay, Emily dropping to the ground beside her.

Alison knelt down next to them. "Emily, are you okay?" She asked with concern.

Emily wheezed a breath and nodded. "Paige is really sick." She replied shakily.

Alison leaned over Paige and checked her pulse before prying her eyes open one at a time with a frown. "Nightshade?" She asked.

Emily nodded, her eyes going wide. "How do you know?"

Alison shrugged. "I've seen it before." Her mouth quirked. "Though, where I come from it's called Belladonna and it's used, how shall I say, recreationally."

Emily stared at her hard. "You think this is funny?" She snapped.

Alison quickly sobered. "No, Emily, I don't" She looked away for a moment and listened for anyone following them or anyone who could help them. "I'm sorry about everything. I didn't know this was going to happen. I've been trying to figure out what's been going on so I could help but I had to stay hidden until I knew who was trying to kill me."

Emily just shook her head. "Why does that woman want you dead?" She huffed a breath. "Maybe you shouldn't answer that."

Alison pressed her lips into a thin line. "Believe it or not I think this all may be a big misunderstanding." She answered wryly.

"A misunderstanding?" Emily's jaw dropped. "People are dead, Alison! Paige has been…" She trailed off unable to finish her thought, choking back a sob.

"I know." Alison said gently and laid a hand on Emily's arm. "I'm sorry. I can help you now."

Paige heard voices nearby. Emily's voice and she sounded upset. She rolled her head toward the sound of her voice and cracked her eyes open. The light was piercing and tears streamed down her face. "Emily…" She rasped.

Emily heard Paige's weak voice and scooted next to her picking up her hand and clutching it tightly to her chest. "Paige." She smiled. "You're awake!"

Paige looked to Emily through slitted eyes and rolled her eyes to to the other woman. "Am...I?"

Alison beamed at her. "Don't worry, Gorgeous." She said and ran her fingers down the side of Paige's face. "This isn't heaven." She said with a wink.

"What's...going...on?" Paige asked agitatedly, looking between the two women.

"Take it easy, Sweetie." Alison said. "It's all under control."

Alison and Emily turned as they heard movement outside nearby. Someone was coming. Alison jumped to her feet in a crouch, holding her fingers to her lips. "Keep quiet and stay down." She commanded. This is what she had been waiting for.

"Ali, no!" Emily hissed at her.

Alison smiled, wickedly. "Don't worry. I can handle this silly cow." She whispered back. She turned and ducked out of the stall, closing and latching the door behind her.

Alison moved quickly and quietly toward the front door of the stable and waited. They only way to keep Emily and Paige safe was to let the woman see her and draw her away from them. She knew, also, the only way to end this was publicly. She needed the truth to come out to clear Paige and have the town see Mary Hackett for the madwoman she was.

Emily bit down on a gasp and stayed low against Paige as she heard the back door to the stable open slowly and soft footsteps in the dirt. Paige groaned softly as Emily leaned into her and Emily covered her mouth with her hand, imploring her, silently, to keep quiet.

"I know you're in here." The woman's voice growled out, menacingly. "Show yourselves." She hissed.

Alison waited until the woman was even with the stall Emily and Paige were hiding in then stepped in front of the door with a panicked shout and scrabbled for the latch to open it.

"There you are!" The woman said as Alison flung the door open and bolted back into the waning afternoon light. She heard the thump of footsteps behind her and her heart raced with fear and thrill at the pursuit.

Though she had yet to see them Alison could hear the shouting and booming voices of men along the street as they searched for them. She had hoped the Marshal would have caught on by now and he didn't disappoint.

Alison's heart rate went up another notch as she ran through her head what she was about to do. She was risking her life but she owed Emily. She owned them all. She slowed and let her boots slide through the slush as she rounded the corner of the saloon. She waited a beat before righting herself, hearing the woman's nearness and stepped out onto the street as a strong arm gripped her hair from the behind and yanked her around.

Alison shrieked in pain and triumph as they stumbled together out into the middle of the street, Mary Hackett, gripping her by the hair and pressing the knife to her throat.

"You!" She screamed, spit flying from her mouth. "Impossible! I killed you!"

* * *

Emily counted to ten after the woman raced after Alison and levered herself out of the hay. "Paige!" She whispered. "Can you get up?" She laid a hand along her face.

Paige nodded. Her eyesight was starting to clear. "Help me…" She said hoarsely.

Emily got a hand around her shoulders and, with effort, pulled Paige to sitting. She was weak and shaky but Emily wasn't going to leave her here alone. They staggered to their feet together and Emily got Paige's arm across her shoulders and slipped her own arm around Paige's waist. Paige was able to stand and it was less of a strain on her ribs.

"Are you ready?" Emily asked.

Paige could only nod. All her energy going into staying on her feet as they moved toward the door to catch up with Alison.

* * *

"Put the knife down, Ma'am." The Marshal's voice boomed from a few yards down the street. His sidearm was drawn but he held it up in a gesture of trust as he saw the woman pressing a blade into Alison DiLaurentis' throat. A thin line of blood trickled down her neck, disappearing beneath her clothes.

Alison felt the bite of the knife and let out a small gasp as they whirled to face the Marshal. Despite her danger she couldn't help a small smile of triumph as she saw the street, previously emptied of people while the law searched, slowly start to fill up with townspeople as they emerged to see what was happening.

The Marshal and the two deputies slowly circled them, taking up positions on three sides to keep Mary Hackett from escaping, whatever happened. Hanna and Mona skidded to a stop behind Marshal Fields, breathing heavily from their run. Peter Hastings, helping an injured Spencer came alongside of them. The Rosewood and the hotel dining room emptied and men and women lined the boardwalk waiting, anxiously to see what would happen next.

"There's been enough killing, Mrs. Hackett." The Marshal said gently. "It's over."

The woman looked around wildly, pressing the blade deeper into Alison's skin. Alison froze, the smile disappearing from her face as she was worried, for the first time, that she may have miscalculated.

"I didn't do anything wrong!" The woman screamed. "I was defending myself." She rattled Alison's head. "This little whore ruined my life!"

"Mary?" A panicked voice called from the crowd as Carter Hackett pushed his way to the front of the onlookers. "Mary, what on earth are you doing?" He said in shock.

Mary Hackett looked at her husband with loathing. "I'm fighting for us!" She shrieked. "What you should have done!"

Carter Hackett shook his head. "Mary, what are you talking about? They told me you hurt people...I don't understand…" He said, his eyes bright with fear.

"Understand this!" She snapped. "If you think I was just going to stand by while you left me cold in our bed while you carried on with this little harlot you married the wrong woman!" She jerked Alison by the hair causing her to hiss in pain. "She had to pay for what she's done. She thinks she owns this town but I showed her. I showed all of them little tarts what a real woman is capable of."

Carter Hackett stared at her, eyes widening. "Oh, my, God" He breathed.

"That's right!" She yelled in triumph. "I know all about your little late night trysts! Don't try to deny it!"

"Mary…" He said, sadly and dropped his head into his hands. "You're wrong."

Alison could feel the woman tense in uncertainty. The other shoe was about to drop.

"I wasn't having an affair with this young woman." He gestured to Alison. "I was...I have…" His face flushed crimson and he stammered around his most private secret in front of the entire town. "...I haven't been with you...because...the Doc said he couldn't help me, that sometimes this just happened with age but I thought maybe Miss DiLaurentis with her certain expertise had seen a...um...dysfunction like mine before. She was helping me with some herbal treatments and some meditation and exercises." He finally finished.

Emily stood, propping Paige up against the side of the saloon and listened to Mary Hackett's confession and the shockingly innocent truth behind it all. Alison was right. It was a misunderstanding that had led to the brutal death of two people already and nearly Paige more than once. Emily fought down the hysterical laughter that was threatening to spill up out of her chest.

She turned to Paige, who squinted and blinked rapidly, the lowering sunlight nearly blinding her, and brushed at the tears from her strained vision that ran down her face. "It's over." She whispered and slipped a hand around her waist.

Mary Hackett froze at her husband's words. "That can't be true." She breathed.

Alison took a breath and straightened against the knife. "It is true you fool!." She said firmly.

"No no no no no." Mary Hackett began to chant, madly.

Marshal Fields thought, for a moment, the truth would be enough to get the woman to surrender but it seemed it may have pushed her completely over the edge. He leveled his revolver at her and saw Alison's eyes go wide as the knife bit into her neck and blood began to flow freely.

He knew he could hit Alison but if he didn't take the shot she was dead anyway. He fired.

Mary Hackett spun away from Alison, the knife dragging against her skin, as she crumpled to the snow with a neat hole through her shoulder. The deputies were on her in a flash, kicking the knife out of her reach and hauling her to her feet and across the street to the jail as she screamed obscenities and cursed the entire town.

Alison dropped to her knees and wrapped her hands around her throat with a strangled cry as blood seeped through her fingers. The cut stung fiercely but it wasn't too deep and she knew she wasn't in any danger of bleeding to death. Mona was by her side in an instant, pressing a handkerchief to her neck and putting pressure on the wound.

Marshal Fields holstered his weapon and took a deep, shuddering breath, running his hands through his hair and looking around. The crowd was already starting to disperse in the cold evening air. Carter Hackett was on his knees in the street, weeping openly as a few of his friends tried to help him back to the hotel. Mona tended to Alison as blood dripped softly onto the snow in front of them.

Peter Hastings stood, his arm around his daughter for support, looking stricken and overwhelmed. Hanna Marin stood on Spencer's other side, her injured arm tucked up against her body, shivering without a coat until Caleb was able to make his way to her and wrap her up in his. He looked to his own daughter. Emily wavered under the weight of supporting Paige, pale and sick, as they made their way, haltingly, down from the boardwalk toward him.

The Marshal snapped out of his daze and closed the distance to his daughter in three long strides. He cupped her face in his hand with a smile of love and pride before taking Paige from her, lifting her effortlessly into his arms, cradling her against his chest. "Let's get to the clinic." He said to Emily. He turned and swept his eyes over the others. "All of you." He commanded.

* * *

**Not what you expected, huh? One more chapter and we'll put this one to bed.  
**


	21. Chapter 21

The recovery room was quiet in contrast to how many people were in it. The light was kept dim though Paige had lost consciousness again before they had even made it back from the clinic and was now in and out of awareness as she rested comfortably and unrestrained in one of the beds.

Emily, having had her ribs rewrapped and, gratefully, accepted medication for pain lay, drowsily, next to her, her father having pushed two of the beds together. One arm gripped across her chest and the other holding Paige's hand as if she might disappear if she let go.

Hanna, her arm back in a sling, and Caleb sat, heads bent together in quiet conversation as she filled him in on the part she played in discovering the killer's identity. Mona, for her part, proved quite skilled in first aid and was able to treat and dress the knife wound at Alison's neck while Dr. Hastings stitched up Spencer's shoulder.

Marshal Fields took a look around at the damage that had been caused and sent up a silent prayer that everyone was going to be okay before slipping quietly out of the room. He still had to see to his prisoner and determine the details of what really happened that night before he could send a report and a request for trial and sentencing to the judge in Laramie. Emily and Paige would be staying at the clinic, at least, for tonight and he would see them again tomorrow.

Mona wiped the last of the blood from Alison's neck and surveyed her work. "With any luck you won't even have a scar." She said with pride.

Alison smiled crookedly. "It would lend me an air of mystery don't you think?" She seemed little fazed by what had just happened and, now that the threat had passed, was back to her old self.

"I think I've had about all of your mysteries I can take." Hanna said humorlessly.

"Oh, don't be like that, Hanna." Alison shot back. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Alison!" Spencer whipped her head around. "Don't you even care that your friend-"

"Yes." Alison cut her off, her face darkening. "I care." The moment passed as quickly as it came leaving them all wondering what Alison was really thinking. She rarely showed a side of herself but cutting sarcasm or casual interest. Intense emotion from Alison was alarming, to say the least.

"On that note." She raised herself, smoothly from her chair. "It's time for me to take my leave."

"Where are you going?" Spencer asked.

"Better not be my attic." Hanna mumbled under her breath.

"Home, Sillies." Ali answered with a toss of her head. "It's been too long and I have, I hear, some cleaning up to do." She sighed and glanced to Mona. "We have to round up the girls. too. They must be positively beside themselves with worry."

Alison glided over to where Paige lay and stroked her hand, gently, down the side of her face. Paige stirred and cracked her eyes open turning into the touch.

Emily frowned as she watched Alison lean down and whisper something into her ear, for only Paige to hear. Her frown, and curiosity peaked as a slow smile spread across Paige's lips and she nodded slowly in response.

With a wink to Emily and a wave to the others Alison was gone.

* * *

It was full dark when Paige woke again. There was a dim lantern nearby lighting the room enough to see she was alone. She turned to the bedside table searching for water and saw a glass filled with muddy brown liquid, a note propped against it. Drink Me!

She sighed and picked up the glass in a shaky hand, downing the contents with only a small shudder. She pushed herself to sitting and looked around. She was in the clinic again but not under guard and she squeezed her eyes shut as what little she remembered about the day came flooding back.

Paige swung her legs off the bed and stood slowly. She was shockingly weak but it felt so good to be out of that cell she wasn't about to not explore her freedom. She staggered to the door of the exam room but it was dark. She turned back into the room and saw a flickering light coming from under a door off to the side.

She limped her way over to it and pushed it open slowly to the bathroom used for therapies and cleansing patients. Candles were lit on a small table, illuminating the large copper bath, steaming with fragrant water and occupied with one very naked Emily Fields. Her hair was damp, draped and dripping over the back of the tub, arms dangling over the sides, as Emily relaxed back, eyes closed and unaware she was being watched.

"Room for one more?" Paige asked softly, her voice cracking with disuse.

Emily's eyes slid open, drowsily, and she rolled her head to the sound of Paige's voice. "Yes, please." She sighed.

Paige sat on a bench against the wall and struggled, ungracefully, out of her clothes. Emily sat forward and offered her a hand as she winced and gasped, easing herself into the hot water opposite her, finally settling back with a groan of pleasure.

Paige sank down into the water, submerging her head for a few moments before coming back up with a gasp and slicking the hair back off her face. She opened her eyes to see Emily watching her carefully.

"What?" Paige asked with a crooked grin. "Do I have something in my teeth?"

Emily couldn't help a laugh cut short by a stab of pain. "How do you feel?"

"Actually, I'm a little concerned that I'm starting to enjoy Spencer's tonics." Paige replied her grin widening.

Emily's smile disappeared and her face clouded over. "You almost died." She whispered.

"Just another day in the life of Paige McCullers." She offered, flippantly.

"Please, don't joke." Emily breathed.

Paige chewed her lip and looked away with a frown. "I'm sorry." She replied just as softly. "It's just…" Paige trailed off looking terribly sad and shook her head, unable to find the words.

Emily reached for her and smoothed a hand across her face, lifting her chin to meet her eyes. "Paige?" She asked softly. "Talk to me."

"Ever since I came here…" Paige took a shuddering breath. "...I've brought nothing but trouble to you and your friends. It's just been one nightmare after another for you…" She trailed off, fighting tears and dipping her head to avoid looking at Emily.

Emily picked Paige's head up again. "That's simply not true." She said gently. "Well, it's true that we've had more than our share of...challenges." Emily agreed. "But it's not because of you. In fact, much of what's happened has been because of my past. I should be thanking you for sticking around to help be through it." Emily tried.

Paige was unconvinced and blew out a ragged sigh, shaking her head.

Emily tried again. "It doesn't matter, anyway, Paige."

"How can you say that?" Paige asked in disbelief.

"Easily." Emily smiled. "Because when I think of you and I think of us together what happened the past few days, what happened on the train or in the mountains, those are not the times that I'll remember first."

Paige eyed her skeptically but she was listening.

Emily moved forward, closer to Paige, so their legs were draped across each other and she could grip Paige's hands in her own, just a small stretch of water between them. "I'll remember right now, being with you, holding your hands." She leaned in and brushed her lips across Paige's mouth. "And kissing your pouty lips."

Paige fought a smile and lost as Emily looked at her with such love that she knew she would believe anything she said right now. "What else?" Paige asked.

"I think of the the way your dip your head when you're shy or nervous and can't look at me. The way you tuck the hair behind my ear and wrap your fingers against my neck before leaning in for a kiss. I think of how strong and sexy you look when ride, or play cards or chop wood." Emily smiled at the last.

Paige laughed out loud now. "You're teasing me."

Emily shook her head. "I'm not, Paige, I promise." She said firmly. "I love to remember how you make me laugh when you share stories about your travels and how serious you get when you argue with Toby about how much fence we need to buy to make repairs."

Paige was lost again and whatever point she had thought about making was long forgotten as she listened to Emily tell her all the things about her that made her happy. "Is there anything you don't like?" Paige asked and cocked an eyebrow at her.

"Yes." Emily said and leaned in closer. "I can't stand being this close to you and not having your hands on me." She whispered.

Paige reached for her with a trembling hand, as much from nerves as from illness, tucking Emily's damp hair behind her ear and gripping the back of her head to pull her in close, their lips meeting in a passionate kiss.

* * *

Spencer was tightening the hinge on the brace around Paige's leg as Hanna helped Emily get dressed to head home when the Marshal stopped by.

"Good." He said as he entered the room. "You're still here." He had an item, wrapped in a musty cloth tucked under his arm.

They all four turned and looked at him expectantly. Emily was the first to speak. "How did it go with Mrs. Hackett?" She asked, hesitantly.

"As well as can be expected." He shrugged. "She's talking so between her and her husband we have a pretty clear picture of what happened."

"Were she and Ian Thomas working together?" Spencer asked.

"Yes and no." The Marshall replied. "Carter Hackett knew Ian Thomas was in to Alison for a large sum in order to cover the interest on his failed investment scheme and that she was threatening to go to his clients if he didn't start paying some of the money back. Hackett must have told his wife about it. Mrs. Hackett caught up with Ian Thomas and proposed they help each other out. She would take care of Alison allowing him to search her room for the record of his loan and his skimming from his clients."

"So he was in on it?" Spencer said.

"I don't think so. Not entirely." The Marshal shrugged. "Thomas was lurking around out back and saw Alison sneak out. He didn't know Cece Drake was in her room and Mary Hackett didn't know that it wasn't Alison in the bed."

"This is all very strange." Emily commented and massaged her temples. "So who drugged Paige?"

"Ian Thomas but he apparently didn't know what she was planning." Marshal Fields explained. "She suggested he needed to start winning some of his money back and told him to take Paige out of the game, so to speak. He probably thought it would be funny while she was setting up Paige to take the fall for the murder."

The Marshal continued. "So, while Mary Hackett was bludgeoning Cece Drake to death in her room Ian Thomas was screwing up the courage to ransack the place. He saw what Mary had done, of course, and also knew it wasn't Alison. He kept that little bit to himself. I suspect to threaten or blackmail Mrs. Hackett with it. He was still trying to figure a way out of his situation."

"With Ian Thomas dead I guess we'll never know what he was thinking." Spencer added.

"I guess not." The Marshal agreed. "When Thomas couldn't find what he was looking for and both of them knew we were on to them that's when their whole plan started to unravel. Mary Hackett tried to kill Paige and Thomas made the rounds of all your places looking for the records. It was never really very well thought out."

"Mmmm…" Paige spoke for the first time. "Not exactly criminal masterminds were they?"

"Mrs. Hackett killed Ian Thomas then?" Emily asked.

"It appears so." Her father answered. "After his failed searches he knew he was sunk. He wanted to leave town. He threatened to tell everything if she didn't help him. She, quite smartly, offered him a place to stay for a day or two to think about his next move and so she could keep an eye on him and he, quite stupidly, accepted and that was the end of him."

"Jesus." Hanna breathed. "I can't believe all of this happened because Mr. Hackett can't get it up." She stated.

They all turned and stared at her, mouths agape.

"What?" She asked, innocently as her comment hung in the air.

Emily's father approached Paige and cleared his throat, nervously. "I have something I thought you could use." He said as he unwrapped the cloth to reveal a gnarled old oak cane. "It was my grandfather's. He made it from the wood of an old oak behind our house that was struck by lightning when I was a boy." He held it out to her.

Paige stared at him in surprise before looking at the cane. It was worn and knotty but polished and looked well used and strong. She shook her head. "I can't take this." She said.

"Sure, you can." The Marshal said with a small smile. He looked up to see his daughter watching them, her eyes bright with emotion. He cleared his throat again. "He was a tall man so I trimmed it down a little for you. You can get it back to me when no longer need it." He offered casually.

Paige reached for it, her hand curling around the handle, and leaned into it. It was a perfect fit. "Thank you." She said, her voice tight.

The Marshal shuffled his feet, uncomfortably, before reaching into his pocket. "I believe this is yours, too." He held out her raven pendant.

Paige opened her mouth with a small gasp, staring at the necklace she hadn't taken off in many years. Her jaw clenched as she struggled with emotion and she froze with uncertainty.

Emily saw Paige struggling and moved to take it out of her father's hand. "I'll take it." She slipped it into her pocket and gripped Paige's hand tightly.

Paige sighed her relief and returned her squeeze.

"Ready to go home?" Emily asked softly.

Paige nodded, looking from Emily's father to Hanna and Spencer, unable to find the words to express her gratitude at everything they had done for her.

"Paige?" Hanna called to her as they headed for the door.

"Hm?" She turned.

"Yesterday when Alison left she whispered something to you." Hanna asked, curiously. "Do you remember what she said?"

Paige inhaled deeply and nodded, a blush creeping into her cheeks and a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "She asked to know the secret of how a ruffian like me could win the heart of a class act like Emily Fields."

* * *

**That's all folks!**

**I've got one more if you're interested before I move on to something else.  
**


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